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#i wish i didn’t miss you as much as i do

alvojake · 8 hours

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I'm Yours, You're Mine | P.SH

↳ this is an add-on part to this fic here! read this one first

「paring」 : idol!bf!sunghoon x idol!fem!reader 「word count」 : 2.2k

「synopsis」 : in the midst of your 'punishment,' you are brought to your limit, and for once in your life, you use the safe word. realizing that maybe he had gone just too far, sunghoon reels back and makes sure that you're okay.

「genre」 : smut, fluff, comfort?, idol!au

「warning」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!, cussing, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mentions of passing out, usage of a safe word, kissing, petnames (princess, baby...), aftercare, sunghoon makes up for being crazy, lots and lots of fluffiness, lmk if I missed anything!!

「notes」 : this is a requested add-on by this anon here! I would also like to dedicate this to someone who I know has read the first part many of many times... hehe haze (@pockettwinzz). I hope you enjoy this!! <3

Your vision flashes white as Sunghoon pulls yet another orgasm from your spent body. The moans and cries that fell from your lips were merely squeaks as you had long since lost your voice. Sunghoon’s relentless thrusts into your overly sensitive cunt were causing your brain to fog, pain shooting through all of your nerves.

Sunghoon had lost count of how many times either of you had cum; both of your bodies were covered in the other's cum and sweat. The sheets under your body were drenched in your juices, causing them to stick to your body.

“Fuck baby, you’re begging me to stop, yet you’re still squeezing me so hard.” Sunghoon groaned as he landed one particular thrust causing you to cry out as pain shot through your lower body. His hands that were gripping your hips were sure to leave bruises.

Your hands that he had freed moments ago were wrapped around his forearms, nails leaving crescent marks on his skin. Pleas of him to slow down came out incoherent as he continued to fuck into you maliciously. You couldn’t even warn him nor prepare yourself when another orgasm washed over you, nearly causing you to pass out for the second time.

It was starting to hurt more than it was pleasurable, and you weren’t sure how much more you could take before it broke you completely. So, mustered as much strength as you could, moving your hands to push against his lower abdomen.

“P-Purple.” You breathed out, merely above a whisper, as your eyes squeezed shut, tears streaming from the corners. However, Sunghoon didn’t hear you and slapped your hands away to continue to slam into you, on the brink of his own orgasm. “Purple! Sunghoon, please.” You cried out, your voice hoarse, and all of Sunghoon’s movements slowed, allowing you to breathe for once in the many hours he has had you underneath him.

“Say that again.” Sunghoon wasn’t sure if he had heard you right, but the way your shaky hands were trying to pry his hands away from your body was enough for him to slow to a complete stop.

“Purple. It hurts, Sunghoon, please.” You sobbed, your tearful eyes looking up to meet his, and he could have sworn his heart stopped.

It was like a switch had flipped in Sunghoon’s brain; he loosened his grip on your hips and pulled from your abused pussy, causing you to whine out. As soon as he completely pulled out of you, you scooted away from him, pulling your legs to your body as tears continued to spill down your cheeks.

“Baby…” Sunghoon’s voice was soft as he tried to reach for you but recoiled when you flinched. “Fuck.” He cursed under his breath, bringing his hand back to his body before getting off of the bed to grab his boxers.

Pulling them up his hips, he made his way back over to you, his heart squeezing at the sight of your trembling body. He had gotten so lost in the lust and pleasure that he completely forgot to pay attention to your body language like he normally would.

Holding his breath, he reached for your body, grabbing your bicep gently, causing you to look up at him with wide, fear-filled eyes. A sight he wished to never see. He leaned over you, his hand slipping down to your hip as he lightly pressed his forehead against yours.

“I’m so sorry, princess,” His voice was soft, and your eyes fluttered shut as his warm breath washed over your face. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and we can watch a movie or something, okay?” His thumb rubbed soothing circles on your hip, causing your body to relax a bit. Sensing that you were starting to calm down, Sunghoon pulled away slightly, “I’m gonna run you a bath; just sit tight.” You breathed out slowly as he pressed a soft kiss against your forehead before pulling away completely and making his way to the bathroom.

Walking into the bathroom, Sunghoon turned on the tap, letting the water run warm before plugging the drain. He then walked over to the counter and leaned against it, eyes closed as he beat himself up for going overboard.

Letting out a frustrated groan, he opened his eyes only to see the marks on his forearms from where you had been digging your nails into his skin. Small blotches of dried blood around some of them.

“Fuck me…” He sighed, pushing himself off of the counter before running his hands through his hair. He felt like a complete asshole after seeing the tears that covered your face knowing that they were no longer because of pleasure, and it took you using the safe word for him to realize.

Letting out a long sigh, he looked over at the bath, seeing that it was full enough, so he walked over and turned the tap off. He then grabbed one of the bath bombs that you kept here and placed it in the water, watching it bubble for a few moments before making his way out of the room.

Walking into the bedroom, Sunghoon found you still curled up on the bed, only moving enough to grab the blanket to cover yourself. Your eyes were droopy as you tried to fight the urge to sleep off. He couldn’t help but smile softly at how cute you were, the way your hair stuck to your forehead, and how your lips were parted slightly as you breathed.

“Princess…” he called out to you, and the only response he got was a soft hum as you snuggled deeper into the sheets, causing him to chuckle slightly. “The bath is ready, come on.” He peeled the blanket off of your body, causing you to whine and open your eyes to look at him.

“I don’t wanna.” You grumbled, trying to grab the blanket back, but he just moved it further from your reach. A pout formed on your lips as you tried to give him the best ‘puppy-dog’ eyes you could muster, hoping that he would just let you lie there and sleep.

“I know you love my cum, but you don’t need to sleep with it on you. Unless you really want to.” He teased, causing heat to flush your cheeks as you covered your face. Chuckling, Sunghoon leans down to scoop you up in his arms, a small sound of surprise leaving your lips and your arms going around his neck. He pressed a kiss against your kiss, relishing the warmth your skin brought him before making his way back into the bathroom.

Once you both were in the bathroom, Sunghoon walked over to the bathtub and sat you inside. You let out a soft sigh as the warm water surrounded your body, closing your eyes as you took in the scent of cherry blossoms filling your nostrils.

You moved slightly to make room for Sunghoon because you thought he would be joining you, but you felt him move away from the tub. Quickly opening your eyes, you reached out to grab him, your fingers wrapping around his pinky and ring fingers, causing him to look back at you.

“Are you not getting in?” You sounded disappointed as you looked up at him, your bottom lip jutted out. He smiled softly before grabbing your hand and kissing the center of your palm.

“I need to change the sheets; I’ll join you afterward.” He promised before setting your hand down and making his way out of the bathroom.

On his way to the laundry room, Sunghoon found Jake sitting on the couch, watching something on his phone. Raising an eyebrow, he looked at the older male, wondering why he was just sitting there. Feeling someone’s eyes on him, Jake looked over, meeting Sunghoon’s eyes and taking the earbud out of his ear.

“Uh… hey,” Jake greeted the dark-haired male sheepishly, “there’s food in the kitchen, I was gonna let you know earlier, but you were too busy dicking y/n down.” He pointed towards the entrance of the kitchen, “How is she? By the way, it sounded like you were really giving it to her.”

Sunghoon glared at the boy, having not forgotten why he was in this situation to begin with. Biting back the insults on his tongue, he turned to walk away.

“Don’t let me catch you near her unless absolutely needed.” Sunghoon’s voice was cold, causing a chill to run down Jake’s spine as he watched him walk away.

After starting the washer, Sunghoon made their way over to the linen closet to grab new bedding and made his way back to the bedroom. Making quick work of making the bed, he made sure it was ready for when you got out of the bath. He then walked over to the closest to grab a change of clothes for the both of you.

Hearing his footsteps, you opened your eyes and sat up from leaning back, a small smile adorning your lips. Sunghoon felt his heart squeeze as he saw nothing but love in your eyes. He didn’t feel like he deserved it, not after what happened. He had never been that harsh before, and he never wanted to do it again if it meant seeing that look on your face.

Sunghoon stripped out of his boxers and slipped into the tub behind you as you scooted forward. Once he was settled he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you back into him until you were resting on his chest.

That’s how the two of you sat for a little bit, relishing in the warmth of the water and each other. Sunghoon’s hands massaged your tense thighs and hips, listening to your soft moans that would slip out unintentionally. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep himself from getting hard, reminding himself that you had already done more than enough.

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t realize how rough I was.” Sunghoon whispered as he pressed a soft kiss on your shoulder. You just snuggled closer to him, grabbing his hand and bringing it to your lips, placing kisses on each of his knuckles.

“I’m not mad, Hoon.” You promised, interlocking your fingers with his before laying it on your stomach.

He rested his chin on the top of your head, closing his eyes and taking in the scent of your shampoo. "Are you sure?”

You hummed a soft confirmation, leaning back into his chest, your fingers drawing shapes on his forearm. Then you felt the welts, causing you to look down, seeing the crescent-shaped wounds on his forearm.

Noticing where your gaze was, “I’m fine, my love, I’m more worried about you.” He spoke softly as he brought his hand up to trace the bite mark that was on your collarbone. “Do you think your manager would be too mad?”

You lay your head back on his shoulder, looking up at him as you contemplated, “She’ll be fine. I have the next week off anyway.” You shrugged, causing Sunghoon to laugh softly before nodding.

Once the two of you were done with the bath, Sunghoon helped you out of the water before grabbing your towel to dry your body off. You couldn’t help the silly smile that spread on your lips as he turned to grab your clothes.

When he turned back around, you had expected him to hand you your underwear, but instead, he bent down in front of you, tapping your calf softly.

“Lift your leg for me, princess.” You did as told and allowed him to slip your underwear over your hips before helping you put on one of his t-shirts.

After both of you were dressed, Sunghoon refused to let you walk the few feet into the bedroom and opted to just carry you. Your arms hung loosely around his neck as he carried you into the room. Your eyes were on his face, and you studied all of his features in detail, much like you normally do when you’re this close.

“Did you want to watch a movie?” He asked as he softly laid you on the bed, his hands barely leaving your body as he joined you in the comforter.

You just snuggled into his side as he finished getting comfortable, throwing the blanket over the both of you.

“No, I just wanna sleep.” You mumbled into his chest as your arms draped over his abdomen.

Sunghoon nodded, kissing your forehead and turned slightly to switch the lamp off before wrapping his arms around your body. The feeling of his fingers tracing shapes on your back and the sound of his heartbeat under your ear was enough to lull you to sleep, but you had one last thing you wanted to get off your mind before you did.

“You know I love you and only you, right?” You lifted your head to rest your chin on his chest so you could look at him, “I’m yours just as much as you are mine.”

Sunghoon could not help the stupid smile that spread on his lips. “I love you so much, baby girl.” He spoke softly, placing one last kiss on your forehead before the both of you drifted off to sleep.

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

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mouvs · 1 day

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Love, expired? - Joost Klein

(Angst & fluff based on bittersuite<- singer reader)

You and joost have always been close, from his youtube days to his crowded festivals, always doing the craziest things together. You were his rock and he was yours, always finding each other in your miseries, finding comfort in one another as you smoked cigarettes and watched the night pass.

Always by one another’s side, cheering each other on. Some would say you come as a set, a bundle of joy spreading where ever you guys came, always giggling by his side as he made you smile trough and trough. Always holding him close on those harder days as he found his way to you, listing to music as you played with the blondes locks as he rested on your lap.

It was on those memories that had your head spiralling, seeing him sleep so peacefully next to you, seeing those bright blue eyes disappear as he smiled at you, feeling his strong arms around your body in a warm embrace. All of it felt like a bliss of warmth, comfort and… love?

You cant lie, a part of you always knew you loved him. But you denied it and you would deny it until you couldn’t anymore. Hes busy, he doesn’t have time for all of that, he doesn’t have time for me, i cant make him happy you told yourself. It was all a joke to him.

You two had been trough so much. It wasn’t his fault you took his jokes a little too seriously right? The nights, you danced together, swaying your hips to the loud music beaming trough the speakers, his hands on your waist and yours occasionally going around his neck, locking eyes from time to time as you held each other close.

“You look so gorgeous i could kiss you” he had said. “I love you” he had said. Giggling as he held you against his chest. Hovering over you the entire night with his hands on you, sharing intimate moments as his lips brushed against your neck occasionally as you danced against his chest. Holding you on his lap as he chatted with friends, gently laying his hand on your thigh. He made you feel so special.

Like it was meant to be, finally.

Until she came around.

The usual group of friends had dragged everyone to a party the week after, inviting a bunch of other people around. Surely one had to take an interest in joost. Your joost. The sweet sweet boy that lid up ypur heart every time you saw him, the sweet boy that made your heart beat faster every time he opened his mouth.

And he shamelessly enjoyed it. Crushing your party mood in an instant as you saw them dance how he danced with you. And you wished that was the only time you had to see it.

But no, surely she became part of the group. Coming along on the smallest things you all did together. And part of you felt so stupid, why do i feel this way you thought. He is free to do what he wants. But this was yet another sign.. that you had fallen hard for him. The way your heart aches for him was surreal.

Part of you felt like you were over reacting. Why cant you let him be happy.

But why do i need him to be happy..

You grew more distant from joost over some time, there was no confirmation they were together but one night at a bar with your friends, hearing the conversation, questions they asked, hearing the girl joke slyly next to him about ‘all they share’ and seeing her around his arm just was to much. You thought it was better to get rid off these feelings, which was painfully slow. You had known each other for so long it felt like a piece of you was missing each day you didn’t talk to him.

And he felt it too. He missed you.

You stopped showing up at his concerts, stopped hanging out with him and your friends as much. Telling them you’ve been working on new songs. Which wasnt a lie, you were drowning yourself in work on purpose, as not to think, not to hear not even breath joost.

Seeing the pictures she shared clinging onto him only making you burry yourself even more.

He felt concerned, he knew you, he knew you all too well to be fooled by your facade. Making your phone explode with texts and calls, only receiving short replies from you or smiley faces.

“Hey the concert for my new album is tomorrow hope you guys can make it!” The message popped up on his phone as he chugged back the remains of the beer he was holding.

He sighed. Remembering the times you were on stage together, dancing together, singing and screaming just living your wildest dreams. “Why wont you talk to me” he thought to himself as he scrolled trough your pictures. Reviving all the memories you guys had together.

Biking to school together, spending hours in grass fields as you both drew or wrote, enjoying the warm summers, going to parties together, smoking together. Suddenly everything reminded him of you. It made him so confused, he had a crush on you for a while but he had settled it was never the right moment as you gotten out of a rough relationship.. but his feelings.. it never really went away.

He wanted to make you smile, make you feel safe, be your person.

He exhaled briefly before pressing the call button..

Hearing it ring more then three times made him anxious as he looked at the screen, his heart stopping for a second as the ringing stopped.

“Hello?” Your voice sounded. Your voice.. he missed your voice. He listened to your songs a lot but it was never the same as actually hearing you talk to him, just him.

“Hey- uhm yea i saw your text in the group i wanted to congratulate you” he smiled softly “i hope im still invited..” he mumbled

“Aw thank you thats really sweet and ofcourse you are joost don’t be silly” you spoke, feeling a little nervous as you heard his quiet odd tone.

“Yea.. okay” he nervously chuckled “but.. why havnt i seen you y/n..” he paused as he sighed “i miss you” it usually took him a lot of courage to open up like that, but the feelings of missing you mixed with alcohol made it slip his lips easier.

It was silent for a while, you didn’t know what to say as you heard him speak.

“I- im sorry joost.. uhm i promise ill make some time for you tomorrow depending how busy it is you know” you nervously laughed. But you only meant one thing. You wanted to only see him, and not with another girl around his arm.

��Thats all you seem to say lately but i don’t believe you y/n” he bites back.

“Wh- what?” You frown as you hear his tone shift on the other side.

“I know somethings up and your not telling me.. did i do something wrong why are you so distant from me all of a sudden?”

Tears prickled into your eyes as you listened, feeling guilty as if you tossed him away.

“I-“ you sniffled “im sorry i dont know okay” you cleared your throat as you tried to compose yourself.

“Y/n sweetheart you can talk to me.. i want you to talk to me please?.. i know we both have it rough sometimes but thats why we have each other.” His words sounded trough your head.

So comforting yet feeling like a knife trough your heart as you sighed. You cant let this continue longer, torturing yourself, leaving him confused. You were already separating yourself from him, might as well take the shot.

“You know just come tomorrow, i do want to talk to you thats not it joost.. you know its not” you mumbled the last part. “After the show we can meet up? Just the two of us?” You asked.

“I would love that y/n” joost said, a soft smile spreading across his face.

“You should really listen to the last song by the way”

He frowned at the text as he and your friends walked too the venue.

“Oh? Why?:)” he typed back,

“If i talk you’d listen right?”

He only got more confused as he read your message

“Ofcourse y/n”

You didn’t reply back as the group went to find a spot, waiting for your entry as they gather drinks.

As you walked on stage joost motioned to get closer as he dragged the group to the front. His eyes glued on you at every given moment, paying zero mind to everyone screaming your lyrics as he tuned it out to only listen to your voice.

Patiently analysing every song, it was painful how mysterious you could be sometimes yet your music unfolds you perfectly.

You laughed as the music ends slowly “thank you all for being here i love you all” you breath trough the mic as you made eye contact.

“Well one more?” You asked as everyone cheered on you chuckled “alright alright i got one more for you guys” you smiled briefly looking at joost as your smile fades a little softer.

Nerves spreading across your body as everything was so real all of a sudden. Normally it feels like a fever dream standing on stage. But this was a little more.. you wrote this song thinking about him.. your feelings for him.

Just like you he stood there nervously listening to the music playing, interested what the last song was about. Carefully listening to the lyrics.

I cant fall in love with you

Your voice sounding trough his head, he frowns a little as he listens, watching your every move, so tender, so elegant.

I see the way you want me i wanna be the one

Your hair falling perfectly over your shoulders as your voice sounds trough the mic, joost eyes on you as you briefly made eye contact, swiftly looking away as you sang the next lines.

But i gotta be careful gotta watch what i say

God i hope it all goes away

Cause i cant fall in love with you

Suddenly it hits him, all those moments, all those heartfelt memories. He was truly in love with you. But.. is he the one you cant fall in love with? His mind raced as he watched you in the dim orange stage lights.

“Fuck” he breathed out as he walked out of the crowd as he ran trough the people trying to reach the back stage, the music ended.

“Thank you all so much” your voice sounded trough the venue as you looked at the crowd, not finding joost in his previous spot. Well fuck. You thought as you nervously smiled, adrenaline rushing trough your veins from the performance you turn around as you went off stage.

Only to be met with those piercing blue eyes you were looking for.

“Y/n..” he said walking towards you “i love you” he blurred out, out of breath from running as he looked down at you.

You stood there for a second with a sheepish grin on your face, serotonin rushing trough you as you pressed your lips against his, his arms comfortingly wrapping around your waist, holding you up as you hold him close.

The smell of his cologne hit you as you feel whole again, his hand tangled into your hair as his lips feel soothingly cool against yours, sounds of him groaning into the kiss only making you smile more as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“I love you too..” you give him a little peck “maybe a little to much”

“Don’t be silly you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting to spit that out” he whined before chuckling as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“How silly are we hm” you giggled as you pressed a kiss to his jaw, only making him want more as his hand brushed over your cheek and his lips meet yours again in a heartbeat.

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steddieas-shegoes · 2 days

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never cared much for stuff

for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘stuff’

rated t | 483 words | cw: temporary character death, mourning | tags: love realizations, Eddie Munson lives, getting together, first kiss

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

He’s never really been the type to find a connection with stuff. He has things that have meaning, just as anyone does, but nothing that matters so much that he’d die if it went missing or got destroyed.

Until Eddie’s necklace.

He’d grabbed it before they left the Upside Down, just after Dustin screamed about bringing his body back with them until he lost his voice.

If this was all he had, if this is the only piece of Eddie he was bringing back, he’d treasure it.

And then he remembered he had Eddie’s vest on. Another thing. More stuff.

Dustin had taken a ring. When, Steve didn’t know.

Stuff started to mean more, or at least this stuff did.

He cleaned the necklace, the vest, made sure nothing was broken, no patches missing. He kept the vest in his closet, scared to even let others know he had it. He wore the necklace, but kept it hidden under his shirt if he was around others.

He cried every single night. Even the nights Robin was with him. Even when Dustin insisted on spending the night for almost a week straight. Even when he spent two nights in a row with Max in the hospital because no one else could.

He didn’t know why, didn’t quite understand why he felt a pull like this for someone he barely knew. He felt ashamed that he wasn’t able to let this go.

Steve was stronger than this. He had to be.

—

On the one year anniversary of Eddie’s death, Steve is certain of two things.

One: He is and will probably always be in love with Eddie Munson.

Two: Eddie Munson is alive and standing in his bedroom.

The first thing is a bit easier to swallow with the second thing being true.

Steve reaches for the necklace hanging against his bare chest, lets his fingers run over the carved initials that were almost worn down to nothing from his fidgeting.

“That looks good on you,” Eddie’s hoarse voice said, so low Steve was almost convinced he imagined it. “You got any more of my stuff or do I get to keep staring at you mostly naked?”

This is what Steve’s been picturing for so long. He’s pretty sure he’s not dreaming, but he pinches his arm anyway.

“How?”

“Wish I had a single clue, sweetheart.”

He looked normal. No blood. No visible injuries.

He looked like he walked out of there with them a year ago and washed the grime and trauma down the shower drain.

“I don’t understand.”

“Me either. But maybe we don’t have to understand.”

“I dunno. I think we should probably try,” Steve felt like he’d maybe finally lost it.

“Someone else can. I’d just like to kiss you.”

Steve could let someone else figure it out. He was gonna kiss the love of his life until they did.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficjune #getting together #first kiss #cw: temporary character death

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thema-nr-2 · 3 days

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cant do it alone - b.k

✮ synopsis - bill is needy for you, but he’s on tour. so what does the poor boy in the middle of the night without his baby?

✮ genre - smut

✮ word count - 1.2k

✮ content warning - phone sex, mutual masturbation ??, sub!bill dom!fem!reader, slight degradation, praise, jerking off, semi public masturbation i guess?

✮ a/n um don’t hate me this is my first ever smut so sorry if it ends up on a tiktok slideshow

Tokio Hotel were on tour for their newest album, Zimmer 483. Normally, touring is never an issue for Bill. If he can bring his dog with him, he’s okay. But being away from you for so long was taking a toll on him. He would be calling you any chance he got. He was thinking of you from the moment he woke up to the moment he fell asleep. Sometimes even while he was sleeping. Tonight more than ever, though, as he had woken from quite a vulgar dream. He imagined himself underneath you, squirming at your every touch. He imagined your pussy around him, riding him ever so slowly. Dragging not one, not two, but up to 4 orgasms out of him. Bottom line, he fucking missed you. Poor Bill woke up around 2 in the morning so hard it hurt, his body simply aching for your touch. It had been far too long without it.

Quietly, knowing his bandmates were on the tour bus sleeping soundly, he made his way to the bathroom and locked the door. As he quickly pulled down his boxers, he sighed in relief as his hand grabbed the base of his dick. Inhaling sharply, he began to slowly move his hand up and down, picturing nothing but you. As well as your low, sultry praises, telling him how good he’s taking it. Bill tried his hardest to be quiet, but it just felt too good to keep in. He let out a whimper, a little louder than intended, to which he immediately bit down onto his lip to conceal.

He was at this for a good 15 minutes, and he wasn’t even beginning to feel close yet. It felt so good, yet it didn’t feel RIGHT. He wasn’t used to getting off alone anymore, it never felt the same without you. He knew he couldn’t do it without your help, so hesitantly he picked up his phone and dialled your number. His heart raced with anticipation as he waited to see if you would actually pick up at this hour, and to his surprise, you did.

“Baby?” You asked, your voice slow and sleepy.

Bills hand was still wrapped tightly around his dick, though moving at a slower pace. “Oh liebe, did I w-wake you?” He asked.

“Yeah, but it’s okay… what’s wrong?”

“Nothing I just.. mmh…” He stopped for a moment before regaining his thoughts “c-couldn’t sleep you know? Wanted to hear your voice..”

As hard as he was trying to hide it, you caught on pretty quickly, even in your half conscious state. “Bill, what are you doing?” You asked, knowing full well what he was doing, but in hopes he would rat himself out.

At this point Bill began to speed up again, hearing your voice quietly whisper to him made him want you even more and it only made him harder. “N-nothing, schatz… p-p-promise…” He whined out shakily, trying to conceal his stutter.

“You know exactly what you’re doing Billy. Does my poor boy miss me that much?”

He shut his eyes as the hand holding his phone began to shake. He held it away from him in an attempt to quiet his moans but it was no use anymore. You knew damn well what that boy was up to. “Y-yes Y/N I f-fucking miss you so much mmph..”

You simply giggle at his pathetic efforts to hide it. “Feel good, darling?” You asked.

Bill, in the state of euphoria that he was, simply moaned a loud “mhm” in response. His hand pumped his dick faster and faster, his imagination going wild. While hearing your boyfriend whimper so pathetically, you felt yourself getting wetter by the second. Your hand found its way under your panties as you slowly rubbed your clit, causing a low moan to escape your lips.

“Oh how I wish I was there…”

He didn’t even care about getting caught, he was so focused on cumming that he didn’t realise, nor care, how loud he was starting to get. “Ohh liebe.. feels s’good… c-can’t take it much longer..”

Chasing your own release, you shushed him. “F-fucking hold it, Bill.” You said as you painfully pushed two fingers inside your pussy, instantly fluttering your eyes shut as they rolled to the back of your head.

“Y/N, ich kannst nicht…”

“You can.” You replied bluntly. “You will.” Your voice sent shivers down Bill’s spine. He was finally so close, and being denied his sweet release was going to drive him insane. “Got it? Or does my slut need to take his hand off his dick completely?”

“No no no, bitte schatz… I’ll h-hold it in I s-s-swear.”

“Gooood boyyy.” You say lowly as you curl your fingers inside you, hitting your g-spot. You moaned out Bill’s name at a high pitch, imagining your hips slamming down on his dick while your hands pinned his down, restraining his every move. “Fuck, Bill…”

“I n-need you here so bad right now… need to cum so much for you..” He whines, his dick now starting to hurt from how sensitive he was.

“Mhmm yeah, like the pathetic slut you are, huh?” Your degradation only egging him on more. “Doing so well for me, B-Billy.. fuck!” Your moans became almost pornographic as you move your fingers in and out of you at a fast pace, even sliding in a third finger. You worry for a second that your neighbours can hear you, but the pure ecstasy was enough to tear you from your thoughts. You felt that familiar knot in your stomach again, signalling that your orgasm was approaching.

“Bitte Y/N, needa c-cum so bad, I’m so close…” Bill begged. If it weren’t for how close YOU were, you would have told your boyfriend to stop what he was doing just to make him even needier. You enjoyed his pleas and whines, they made you feel so powerful. Like you could control and train him completely, as if you owned him.

“Go on, baby boy, cum for me like the good boy you are.” His moans got louder and louder as he shut his eyes tightly, nearly dropping his phone from how his tense his muscles were. “Imagine cumming in my hand, or my mouth, or even deep inside me.”

“Ja… ah fuck Y/N I’m right there..” That was enough to send him over the edge. Thoughts of you raced through his mind, taking over his body as he came hard in his hand. He let out a final moan of bliss, dragging out your name and jerking his hips up, anything to increase the pleasure of his orgasm. And shortly afterwards, waves of pleasure washed over you as you rode out your high, softly praising him in the process.

Bill, struggling to even think, propped himself up as he was basically lying down on the floor. He panted heavily as he brought the phone back closely to his ear, to hear your sighs of satisfaction. “Holy shit..” He whispered out. “That felt so good, prinzessin..”

You blushed at the pet name, along with hearing Bills fucked out voice. You could only imagine the glowing beads of sweat on his forehead and his furrowed brows, his chest slowly rising and falling as he breathed out your name.

“Did you wake anyone up? You were pretty loud, ya know.” You teased.

Bill suddenly felt his face heat up in embarrassment. He quietly poked his head out into the bus to see everyone still fast asleep. “Doesn’t look like it..”

“Well,” You sighed, “think you can take another one?”

ahhh i know that was lowkey really bad but i wrote it at 2 in the morning 😭 if you wanna see more tho feel free to request something and i’ll get back to it as soon as possible!

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel smut #tokio hotel x reader #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz #gustav schafer smut #tom kaulitz x reader #gustav schäfer #georg listing smut #georg listing x reader #georg listing #gustav schafer x reader #tom kaulitz smut #2000s

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allthebestnamesweretaken · 2 days

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So I’ve been rewatching the X-men movies (1-3 so far) & here’s a few thoughts that have plagued my mind:

Charles and Erik are so gay, I love it

I love the relationship between Wolverine & Rogue. In the beginning it was giving older grumpy man and his new daughter and then it turned into friendship. Either way I love it, I wish we’d seen a bit more

I don’t get Logan and Jean💀 what do you mean you love her??? And she’s cheating on Scott?? Why??? It feels like I missed something bc I don’t understand where these feelings came from

Rip Scott. You and your brother deserved more screen time in your movies 😔

I want more Nightcrawler

Why is no one objecting to this kid being locked up and used to make serum for the “cure”?? Again maybe I missed something but what??? Is this not abuse??? Unlawful detainment??? Something???😭💀

They be getting they asses beat a lil too much for me💀 sometimes it makes sense and other times I’m like come on, Storm why is this frog man getting the best of you rn??

They really do be killing people and idk why I didn’t realize that before. Partly collateral damage but also they just straight up kill people and I wasn’t ready for that from our heroes 🤣

Charles you’re one sneaky bastard😏

#x men #x men the last stand #x2 #cherik #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #wolverine #nightcrawler #jean grey #storm #charles x erik #Wolverine and rogue mean so much to me #magneto sitting alone at the chess board was actually a lil sad

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hookhausenschips · 3 days

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Tangled In My Soul {JB22}

500 Follower Special!!!

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Summary: Y/N struggled with feelings of loneliness and public scrutiny while waiting for Jenson, but during their drive home, he reassured her of his love and commitment. They spent the evening reconnecting emotionally and physically, finding solace and happiness in each other's presence.

Taglist

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Y/N was sitting in the car park outside of the Sky Studios where Jenson had been working all week when he got out of the building and walked towards the car. He had been gone since Monday morning and they hadn't really spoken much over the weekend, it had been hectic with him traveling up north to see his family and then having to go back down south for work again.

She could feel herself getting more and more angry every day that went past, especially since she knew he would be talking about her on the television. She didn't like hearing other people talk about her behind closed doors let alone millions of people watching her live. She knew it was something he couldn't avoid but it still hurt.

She tried not to take it personally but sometimes it was hard, she wasn't used to this kind of attention. She wasn't even sure if she wanted this kind of attention.

Jenson sat next to her and kissed her cheek before opening the door for her. They both climbed into the car and buckled up before starting their drive home. It was always so quiet during these drives.

“How did it go today?” Y/N asked breaking the silence between them.

“Fine, just another day at the office.” Jenson replied looking over at her. “How have you been?”

“I've been fine thanks. I’ve missed you.” Y/N said giving him a smile and leaning over to kiss his lips softly. He smiled back and placed his hand on top of hers.

They carried on driving in silence for a few minutes until Jenson spoke again. “I know it’s been hard this week and I’m sorry for leaving you alone for so long, we don’t get many chances to spend time together anymore.” He looked over at her again. “And I know it’s difficult to hear everyone talking about you all the time, it must be hard.”

“It’s okay Jens, you can't help it. It’s your job after all. But I do miss spending time with you.” Y/N gave him a little smile.

“I know you do. We should go somewhere nice soon, get away from everything and relax. Maybe we could even try and make some memories.” Jenson smiled back at her and turned his head to look ahead onto the road.

Y/N nodded but didn’t say anything else, she could feel her eyes starting to fill with tears. She didn’t want to cry in front of Jenson but she also felt like she needed to let it out, she was just so upset.

“Hey what’s wrong? Are you ok?” Jenson reached across the seat and placed his hand on her thigh, rubbing it gently.

Y/N sniffed trying to fight back the tears. “I-it’s nothing I’m just a bit sad that’s all.” Her voice cracked as she spoke.

“Don’t cry please, it’ll only make things worse. You can tell me what’s going on, I won’t judge you.” Jenson squeezed her thigh slightly, trying to reassure her.

Y/N wiped the tears away from her face and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. “I’m just tired of people making fun of me all the time, saying things about us because of our age difference and that I'm only here because of who you are. It hurts me, it hurts me so much. I love you and I know you love me too but I just wish people would stop hurting me like this.”

Jenson pulled over to the side of the road and put his hand around her waist, pulling her closer to him. “Listen to me Y/N, I need you to listen to me very carefully.”

“Yes, yes.” Y/N sniffed again and wiped the last remaining tears away.

“I love you more than anything else in this world, you mean everything to me. I would do anything for you. And I know what it feels like to have people say bad things about you all the time, I know how it makes you feel. So trust me when I say that those people don't matter, they are nothing compared to what we have.” Jenson stroked her hair and ran his thumb along the back of her neck. “I know it’s hard but you can't let them get to you, you have to ignore them or else they will win.”

Y/N nodded slowly, taking in everything he said. “But I just want people to like me, I want them to accept me and understand why we are together.”

“That’s not going to happen anytime soon Y/N, no matter what happens or what you do people will always find something to say about us. Even if we were perfect they would still find something.” Jenson kissed the top of her head and rested his chin on top of it. “So please stop worrying about what other people think about us, focus on what matters most; us.”

“But I'm scared of losing you Jens, I don’t want you to leave me.” Y/N buried her face into his chest and wrapped her arms around him.

“Oh darling, you will never lose me. You are the most important thing in my life right now and I wouldn’t ever dream of leaving you, you mean too much to me for that.” Jenson rubbed her back soothingly. “I promise I will never leave you, you are stuck with me forever.” He laughed lightly and kissed her forehead.

Y/N lifted her head off his chest and smiled at him, “I love you Jens.”

“I love you too, my angel.” He smiled back at her and leaned forward to kiss her lips. Their lips moved against each other softly and lovingly as they enjoyed the moment. After a while they broke apart and Jenson started the engine again.

“We should probably get going, we don’t want to be late for dinner tonight.”

“Yeah, I’m hungry.” Y/N grinned and snuggled up close to him as he started driving again.

They drove back home in silence but it wasn’t awkward this time. There was no tension between them, just pure happiness and contentment.

* * *

When they arrived back at their house they went straight through to the kitchen and started cooking dinner together. Jenson was making spaghetti bolognese while Y/N was making garlic bread. It was one of their favorite meals to cook together, they both loved Italian food and it was easy enough for either of them to make.

They chatted happily as they cooked, sharing stories about their days and laughing together. They both enjoyed spending time together like this, it was rare for them both to have free time at the same time so when they did they made the most of it.

After finishing their meal they cleaned up the dishes and then headed upstairs to their bedroom. They changed into their pajamas and climbed into bed together under the covers. They lay facing each other on opposite sides of the mattress and held hands tightly as they watched TV.

Jenson turns and looks at Y/N, his eyes memorizing every detail about the woman who has held him captivated in every waking moment since they met. Y/N looks up and blushes at the attention. "What are you staring at?" she whispered.

Jenson smiles and reaches over to run his fingers through her hair. "My beautiful girl," he murmurs. "I am simply admiring my favorite view."

Y/N blushes deeper and leans into his touch. "Are you going to stare at me all night?" she teases.

Jenson laughs and shakes his head. "No, my dear," he replies. "There is something else I intend to do instead."

Y/N arches an eyebrow at him. "Oh yeah? What might that be?"

Jenson grins mischievously and sits up. He moves over to sit beside her and begins to undress her. "Well," he says, "I want to show you exactly how much you mean to me."

Y/N watches as he removes her clothes, leaving her in nothing but her panties and bra. He runs his hands over her body, caressing her skin and causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. She shivers with pleasure. "You're so beautiful," he whispers.

Y/N smiles and leans into his touch. "Thank you," she breathes. "You're not so bad yourself."

Jenson laughs and pulls her close, pressing his lips against hers in a passionate kiss. His tongue dances with hers, exploring every inch of her mouth. Y/N moans into his mouth, her body responding to his touch.

Jenson breaks the kiss and looks down at her, smiling. "You're absolutely stunning," he murmurs. "And I'm going to treat you like the queen that you are."

Y/N blushes and looks down, feeling shy. "Thank you," she whispers.

Jenson kisses her forehead before he began his descent below, kneeling between Y/N's spread legs. He leans down and presses his lips against her clit, flicking it with his tongue. Y/N gasps and arches her back, pushing her hips up against his mouth.

Jenson chuckles and continues licking her, using his hands to massage her breasts. Y/N moans louder, her breathing becoming ragged. "Oh god," she pants. "Jensen... fuck!"

Jenson starts sucking harder on her clit and massaging her breasts more forcefully. Y/N cries out and wraps her legs around his head, holding him against her. "I'm gonna cum," she gasps. "Oh god, I'm gonna cum!"

Jensen continues pleasuring her, his tongue working furiously as he brings her to orgasm. Y/N screams as she cums, her juices flowing freely onto his tongue.

He climbs back onto the bed and straddles Y/N, pressing his cock against her entrance. "Ready?" he asks.

Y/N nods and spreads her legs wider, inviting him inside her. Jenson pushes himself into her wet heat, groaning as he fills her completely. "Darling I don't think I'll ever get over this feeling."

Y/N gasps and wraps her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder. "Mmm," she moans. "That feels so good."

Jenson smiles, "Yeah?' as he slowly drags his cock in and out of her tight pussy. "You're so fucking beautiful," he grunts. "You feel amazing."

He wanted to take her apart slowly.

He wanted her to be able to remember this night forever.

He wanted to make sure that she remembered that she was his. That she belonged to him, and only him.

Tonight was about making love. Not fucking.

Jenson pushed himself in and out of Y/N's wetness, moving faster as she began to moan and writhe beneath him. He leaned down and captured her lips in a searing kiss, his tongue dancing with hers as he continued thrusting into her.

"Fuck," she gasped. "You feel so good."

Jenson smiled against her lips, "Good?" He asked, before kissing her again. "I thought you were going to say something better than that."

"You're being ridiculous." Y/N pouted.

"Am I?" Jenson raised an eyebrow. "Do you want me to prove it?" He asked, smirking.

"Prove it? Prove what?" Y/N frowned.

Jensen laughed, "That you're not the only one who can give you orgasms." He leaned down and sucked on her nipple, his hands gripping her hips as he continued pumping into her.

Y/N cried out, her head falling back against the pillow. "Oh god, Jens..."

"Shh," Jenson soothed, kissing her throat as he thrust harder. "Just enjoy it baby."

Y/N moaned and threw her head back, arching her back as she welcomed him inside her. "Harder!" She cried. "Please!"

Jenson complied, pounding into her with renewed vigor. He could feel her walls clenching around his cock, squeezing him tightly. "That's it, baby..." He growled. "Take it all!"

He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her deeply. Y/N moaned into his mouth as he began thrusting into her harder and faster. He gripped her hips tightly and pounded into her relentlessly, his balls slapping against her ass.

Y/N cried out as the pressure built inside her, her walls contracting around his shaft. She came hard, screaming his name as her juices flowed out onto his cock. Jenson groaned and continued thrusting into her, drawing out her orgasm. Jenson slowed his pace, allowing her to recover before finally pulling out of her.

Finally, he released her hips and collapsed onto the bed, panting heavily. Y/N lay beside him, trembling and covered in sweat. He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly as they recovered from their intense session.

"Wow," Y/N said, finally able to speak again. "That was incredible."

Jensen chuckled and kissed her forehead. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he said, "but we're not done yet." He rolled over and pinned her to the bed, looking down at her hungrily.

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked, surprised.

Jensen grinned, "I mean that I'm not finished with you yet. I plan on showing you all night just how much I love you." He lowered his head and kissed her collarbone, then trailed his tongue down her stomach. He paused to nip at her navel before continuing further down.

Y/N gasped as his mouth found its way to her core. His tongue flicked over her clit, sending delicious waves of pleasure through her body. She arched her back, pushing herself against his mouth.

Jensen chuckled against her skin and continued eating her out, alternating between licking and sucking her clit. He slid a finger inside her, pumping it in and out slowly as he worked on bringing her to climax.

Y/N moaned and writhed beneath him, her hands gripping the sheets tightly. "Oh god..." She whimpered. "Don't stop... please don't stop!"

Jensen chuckled again, "As if I would ever stop," he murmured against her skin. He added another finger, scissoring them inside her as he licked her clit faster and harder.

Y/N screamed as she came, her walls contracting tightly around his fingers. Jenson groaned and continued pleasuring her, drawing out her orgasm as he brought her to climax once again.

Finally, he removed his fingers and crawled up her body, positioning himself above her. "Now," he said, "let's finish what we started earlier." He leaned down and captured her lips in a passionate kiss.

Y/N moaned into his mouth, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close. Jenson smiled against her lips and began thrusting into her again.

"My darling, you will never be unloved by me. You are too well tangled with my soul." Jenson said as he slowly thrusted in and out of Y/N, looking down at her with adoration. "You are my sunflower."

Y/N smiled at him, "And you are mine," she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss.

Jensen smiled against her lips, "Of course I am," he murmured, "I'll always be yours."

They kissed passionately for several minutes before breaking apart to catch their breath. Y/N smiled up at him, "I love you so much, Jens."

Jenson smiled back at her, "And I love you more than anything, my darling." He leaned down and kissed her again, slower this time.

Y/N sighed contentedly, "That was amazing." She murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her head on his shoulder.

Jenson chuckled, "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he said, "but we're not done yet." He leaned down and captured her lips in a passionate kiss.

Y/N moaned into his mouth, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close. Jenson smiled against her lips and began thrusting into her again, picking up where they left off.

They fucked for hours, pausing only to catch their breath before resuming their passionate lovemaking. Finally, they collapsed onto the bed, exhausted but satisfied. Jenson wrapped his arms around Y/N and held her close, kissing her forehead tenderly.

"I love you," he whispered. "More than anything in the world."

Y/N smiled up at him, "And I love you too," she murmured, "more than words can express."

Jenson smiled back at her, "Goodnight, my darling." He whispered. "Sleep tight."

Y/N yawned sleepily and snuggled up against him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest. "Goodnight," she murmured. "Sweet dreams."

Jenson chuckled and kissed her forehead, "Sweet dreams indeed," he whispered. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, dreaming of their perfect future together.

* * *

Bonus; Y/N woke up the next morning to the sound of birds chirping outside her window. She stretched languidly, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight streaming in through the windows.

She glanced over at Jenson, who was still asleep beside her. She smiled and leaned over to kiss him gently on the cheek.

Jenson stirred and opened his eyes, smiling at her. "Good morning," he said sleepily.

Y/N snuggled closer to him, savoring the peaceful moment. "Good morning," she whispered back. "Did you sleep well?"

Jenson nodded, wrapping his arm around her. "Yeah, I did. How about you?"

"Perfectly," she replied, resting her head on his chest. "I love waking up next to you."

He kissed the top of her head. "Me too."

The two of them lay there for a few more minutes, enjoying the tranquility before the day fully began. Eventually, Y/N sighed and sat up, looking down at Jenson with a playful grin. "What do you want for breakfast?"

Jenson chuckled. "Surprise me."

Y/N got out of bed and padded to the kitchen, her mind buzzing with possibilities. She decided to make pancakes, knowing they were one of Jenson's favorites. As she whisked the batter, she hummed softly, feeling a sense of contentment she hadn't felt in a long time.

Jenson joined her a little while later, wrapping his arms around her from behind. "Smells amazing," he murmured into her ear.

She turned her head to kiss him on the cheek. "Almost ready. Can you set the table?"

"Of course," he replied, grabbing the plates and cutlery.

They worked together seamlessly, the kitchen filled with the sounds of laughter and the clinking of dishes. As they sat down to eat, Y/N felt a surge of happiness, grateful for the simple yet perfect moments like these.

After breakfast, they decided to take a walk in the park. The fresh air and the vibrant colors of spring invigorated them. They held hands, talking about everything and nothing, enjoying each other's company.

When they returned home, Jenson pulled Y/N close and looked into her eyes. "I don't know what the future holds," he said softly, "but as long as we're together, I know it'll be amazing."

Y/N's heart swelled with love. "I feel the same way," she said, kissing him deeply. "Here's to many more mornings like this."

==================================

JB22 Taglist: @tallrock35, @yourbane, @lightdragonrayne, @evie-119, @asparklysoul, @miarabanana

F1 Taglist: @hiireadstuff, @really-fucking-tired, @donteventry-itdude, @spookystitchery

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jakeyt · 10 hours

Text

Covet: Chapter 11 (Part 2 of 3)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great.

Was.

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home.

Yes, he was your best friend’s twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in.

Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want.

At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); angst; EMDR (VIVID intro to revisiting traumatic situations); crying + feelings of sadness; heart issues (POTs); use of heart monitors; dangerously high heart rate; implied abusive situations; derogatory verbiage from past abuser; implied drug use; very unsanitary living conditions; visits to safe place; usage of containment strategy * * * revisited, vivid memories of sexual encounters; body changes as a result of pregnancy; talks of baby + pregnancy; pregnancy hormones (+ continuing to act on them ;)); reader and jake continue to be STUBBORN; cheating; heavy petting; forgetfulness (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter 11 (Part 2) Word Count: 23.9k+

a/n: i broke my promise, i know. :( i feel absolutely fucking terrible that i made you all wait, but life happens. :'( i wish this story was my main priority/job, but alas...that dream is not a reality. i need you all to know: when i say i'm going to do something, i fully intend on it, but...life (and crippling adhd + anxiety).

i am so incredibly sorry, my lovely readers. :(

also, life update to blame (only if you care to read). BUT, on top of trying to get my house completely cleaned/shit thrown away, i officially had to empty out my classroom (see also: due to toxic work enviro, i had to leave the career i've wanted to live out since i was six y/o). so, i'm currently in the process of completely shifting careers (going from one emotionally taxing career to another, but that is apparently the type of job my heart desires lol).

as always, big thank you to @joshym for being the best sister there ever was and supporting me in my writings + pursuits <3 i love you to the ends of the earth, lis. you're my person. <3

Please enjoy the playlist as you read 🖤 (fr, i listen to it nonstop when i write this.... all of the songs are pertinent to the story and aid in telling it - either already or eventually.)

Covet Masterlist

-🌼🌼🌼-

"I covet truth; beauty is unripe childhood's cheat; I leave it behind with the games of youth."

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

-🌼🌼🌼-

Monday

December 12, 2022

“So, any news on the baby since I last saw you?” Gia started, a sure smile on her face that helped ease you. “You had your second appointment on Thursday, right?”

“No,” you shook your head. “Dr. Rose wanted to just wait until closer to Week 18 so we could find out the gender at one session rather than having to wait between week 16 and week 18. Knock everything out at once,” you explained, clearing your throat. Looking around the office, you admired the pieces of floral art littering the walls, as you always did. “We’re going this Friday now.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Gia asked, raising a brow. She was rolling to her desk, getting the (seemingly) last thing she needed for your session today and placing it in her lap. “Not stressed about putting it off?”

“No, actually. I’m not stressed at all,” you acknowledged, sticking your lip out in thought. You hadn’t even thought to be stressed yet. Progress? Sure seemed like it. “It’s strange; the longer time passes, the bigger I get. . . The worries just aren’t as prevalent. It’s like I can feel that the baby is okay.”

“Not strange at all, babe,” Gia reassured with a shake of her head. Her platinum blonde hair was wavy today, framing her angular face perfectly. “Completely normal for new mothers to sort of get used to the pregnancy enough to feel at peace, per se. And I am so proud of you for getting to that point.”

“Well thanks,” you grinned crookedly, trying your best to settle into the worn, camel-colored leather of her sofa. “Can’t say the same for today’s session though. . . I am nervous about it.”

Gia waved it away, showing you a look of ease on her stark features. “No need. You’re the one in control, girly,” she winked, placing both white-sneakered feet on the ground.

She reached in her desk drawer for the little pouch, the familiar one that you knew held the device you’d be using today. A sudden wave of nerves began to crash over you as she unzipped it, revealing it and the paddles that would be the catalyst in placing your brain. . .elsewhere— somewhere.

Somewhere bad? Good? In-between?

“Here’s the plan,” she started, wheeling her chair closer to the couch, where you were trying your damnedest to sit comfortably. “We’ll start with your safe place to give you some sense of peace and stability — gotta make sure it’s still fresh and open in your mind.”

You watched as she turned the knob of the device, the little green light beginning to blink to notate that it’s on. “Then,” she continued, situating the device to look it over before her green eyes settled back on you. “Once you feel comfortable, I’ll tell you to begin walking away. Whatever direction you’d like to go, it’s completely up to you.”

Gia held the paddles out in front of you, and with clammy, shaky palms, you tentatively took hold of them. One in each hand, just like last time.

You couldn’t stop worrying about where you’d end up, where you’d walk away to. Walking away from your beautiful field, from Jake. . . What if you couldn’t do it?

“Will I. . .,” you cleared your throat, nervous. “If where I go is too hard, do I just—,” you panicked, unable to properly finish your sentence due to an onslaught of nerves. “What will I do?”

You were fumbling with your words and clarity, before she interjected, knowing just where your mind was going. “I’ll simply tell you to walk back to your safe place. I’ll be talking you through it, I’ll be right here the whole time — just gotta keep your ears open for me,” she winked, clicking open her iPad and testing her Apple pencil on the screen, readying to take notes.

“And, if at any point I see your body language change to indicate any distress, I’ll guide you back to your safe place, okay?” She soothingly told you the words, her full pink lips widening to a sweet smile, clicking her pencil into its spot at the top of her iPad case. “Remember, my specialized area is EMDR. I’ve done it multiple times before this – successfully. I plan to complete this successfully with you, too, y/n.”

When you gave her a small, timid smile, she took that as an indicator to continue on with her little speech. The tiny faux grin on your otherwise concerned face was the most emotion you could muster in that moment.

“It will hurt from time to time. I can’t take that away. It will be harder than most other things you’ve ever had to do.” She paused, her own brows curving to show care for your rigid state. Gia reached forward to unwrap your hands from the paddles gently. Once she had a hold on your hands, she rubbed the backs of them reassuringly, her thumbs so soft with their intricate patterns. You looked down to study the patterns, working to focus on something else and rid yourself of the nerves.

“Y/n.” She stated your name, making you look up at her. Her seafoam-colored eyes grabbed yours. “Before we begin. . . I want to make sure – once more – that you are sure about this . . . that you want to continue. We’ve talked about it a lot, but I want you to be sure. There are other routes of therapy. . .”

“No,” you replied, completely sure of your decision. “No. I want to do this. I promise I haven’t changed my mind. I don’t want to change my mind,” you rushed out, desperate for her to understand you. “I’m just–just scared. Is that not okay?”

You didn’t mean to sound defensive, but your biting tone contradicted that. The nerves were wracking you, from the inside out.

Luckily, Gia seemed unphased, keeping with her featherlight touch to the backs of your hands. “It absolutely is okay to be scared,” she confirmed, tone firm and soft all at once. “But, I need you to keep in mind: you are in charge this time. You have the power. We will approach these places in the now – you are in the driver’s seat of conquering these past battles. We’re in this together, love – and we will make it out stronger and better than before we started.”

Her voice assured you, of course. But the fear was still ever-present.

Sure, you did have control. But what if you couldn’t control where you went?

Where would you go? That was what scared you most. Your mind was bound to let loose. It was one telling part of this sort of therapy. You didn’t really know what had been hiding deep in the drawers of the credenza in your mind. . .

Hence you being here.

You just knew, whatever it was lying beneath the surface — you knew it was. . . a lot.

Then, as if she could hear the additional fearful thoughts swimming in your brain, she grasped your hands tighter in hers, moving to rub her thumbs over the tops of your knuckles. “You’ll be just fine. We’ve got a solid plan, babe. I just need you to trust me, and I need you to trust yourself. If you need to walk away, tell me and we’ll do it. That is in our power – your power.” Her pristinely white, pearly teeth were on display as she looked deep into your worried eyes. “We can do this, okay?”

We. I’m not alone.

You’d never had a single doubt about Gia. Of course you trusted her. But. . .maybe the true problem was trusting yourself. . . Over the past several months, you were finding that to be a bit more difficult.

But, Gia was right. You had to put some trust in yourself to know when you needed to step away. You could do it. You had to.

And knowing that she had a plan and had done it so many times before. . . Those were relieving thoughts, to say the very least. She knew what she was doing, and she knew what was best for you.

I can do this, you recited to yourself. I can. . .

You sighed, out of both relief and persistent worry. “I trust you,” you told her, another somewhat forced smile following your words. “And I’ll learn to trust myself. . . I’ll try my best,” you grinned sheepishly. “We’ve got this.”

“Good deal,” she responded with a far more sincere smile than you could offer. “There’s just one more thing we need to do before we get started.”

She clicked her iPad closed, wheeling back toward her desk, reaching down in the same drawer she pulled the device from. Only this time, she pulled out a large legal style, white notepad, and a large box of Crayola markers. Lastly, she grabbed a flawlessly sharpened pencil from the ceramic baby blue jar, covered in white roses, next to her keyboard.

What could she be up to? You wondered, eyebrows drawn together.

“I need you to describe something for me, something visual to lock any horrible memory away in.” She took a sip of her tea, which sat atop her desk, before she stood up from her chair. She came to sit directly next to you on her couch. The smell of eucalyptus that swirled off of her, from her perfume, was soothing. “You need to give it lots of detail, make it unique. I’ll even draw it for you,” she held up the notepad, pointing to it with a gentle smile. “Seeing it visually will help you when it’s time to lock the memories away mentally. Some people want a box, a filing cabinet, a treasure chest,” she laughed, and you giggled at that one, too. Jake would love that one. Buried treasure, like his pirate documentaries. . . “Whatever you want. You just tell me exactly what you want it to look like.”

Something about this felt a little silly, but you understood the purpose for it. Just having a place to put the memories after you visited them, it felt like closure. A special sort of closure at the end of every session, just like your safe place felt like closure. . .

And then, you knew what you wanted it to look like. Saw the image, clear as day, in your mind. It felt significant to you, it felt right. There was no question.

But, you had a thought.

“Would–would it be okay if I drew it?” You questioned carefully.

She eagerly handed you the notepad, markers and pen with a huge smile. “Absolutely. That’s called trusting yourself big time, girly. This box is a special one!” Her voice was wet as she sniffled. “I’m not supposed to get so emotional with my clients, but I’m proud of you. You’re making great strides and we’ve barely started.”

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling a bit encouraged, your own throat tight as you reviewed her once more with a glance.

Then, sticking the tip of your tongue out from the corner of your mouth, you looked down at the paper, and began.

A small, wooden box was all you could see in your mind. So, you drew it out, as best you could, given your lack of artistic abilities.

One side, then the other, the bottom, the top. . .

Before you knew it, you had a perfect, rectangular box on the stripped notebook paper. Then, it was time for the important part: the details.

There was only one element that felt right — felt safe — to decorate the box with.

Scouring through the markers, you found two perfect shades of purple at the bottom — two very different shades, to add depth. You weren’t an artist, really, but you could pretend for the box’s sake.

Then, you searched for the greenest green you could find. One more marker in a shade of dark brown, and you were ready to draw the box exactly as you saw it in your mind.

You began drawing tiny individual stalks of lavender on top of the box. You filled in their blooms with the purples, drawing their stems underneath with the green. Their placement may have seemed scattered across the top, but you kept going. To you, it made sense. And that was all that mattered.

One bloom in the top left corner, one diagonal from it in the bottom right corner. Then, there was one on the bottom left going straight up and down, with a slight curve to the stem. . . And one more, laying on its side directly in the middle. . .

It was perfect. Just as you’d imagined.

You filled in the blank spaces with the brown marker, immulating the antiqued, stained mahogany wood you were envisioning.

And once you filled it all in, your vision had come to life right before your own eyes. It was the ideal picture of what you saw, and despite the fact that you were no artist, it was beautiful. You loved it. Looking at it forced emotions you weren’t expecting, so many big emotions that begged to be surfaced.

And for whatever reason, looking at it made you think of the baby. This beautiful, hand drawn box held a strange connection to the life you and Jake had created, though you couldn’t explain how. . .

But, you felt it. You felt it so strongly.

“Lavender means a lot to you, doesn’t it?” Gia asked you, smiling and wiping away a stray tear that sat on top of her highlighted cheekbone. “It’s very lovely, y/n. And I’m so glad that you drew it.”

You contemplated her question about lavender. You’d never considered just how prevalent it was in all of your happy places. . . But, it was. It meant so much. . .

Who knew that such a simple plant could bring you so much comfort? So much peace?

A tear came to your eye at the thought of how special the plant had become to you. . . It was really no secret why it’d become special.

Gia leaned over, giving you a small side hug, but didn’t linger before making her way back to her chair. She sat at the edge of it, elbows placed on both knees as she clasped her hands at the front.

“How are we feeling?” She asked, sniffling once more as she looked you directly in the eyes. “A little better now that we have our box?”

“Yes,” you nodded, wiping under your eye to rid yourself of any tears. “The box idea is genius.”

“The technical term is containment. Again, it’s simply where the client creates a space to store the distressing memories. I want to emphasize that the memories aren’t coming back to control you, rather you’re the one controlling them. And, the box’s containment of the unpleasant memories gives you a little extra control over these memories and the emotions attached to them. They’re yours to deal with,” she explained softly. “You done with the notebook and pens?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nodded eagerly, handing the materials back to her. You went over her words in your head, extra control. . . the idea of that sounded wonderful to you. Those words aided in lifting a decent amount of weight from your nervous body.

She took the materials from you, and as she did so, you decided to take the paddles in your hands once more, feeling much more confident.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, rolling back in her tufted chair to put the markers and pencils back on the desk. “I definitely can’t take credit for the idea of containing those horrendous memories in a certain area. . . but it has proven wonderfully effective for every client I’ve practiced this form of therapy with,” she explained further, coming back to sit in front of you, wheeling smoothly back towards you. When she was about two feet away from you, she stopped and observed the picture of your box, the notepad still in her lap. “Do you have a clear idea of the box in your mind?”

“The clearest,” you affirmed, no question in your mind of the precise placement of each piece of lavender. The exact color of mahogany that you’d depicted for the wood, sealed in your brain.

“Wonderful. Well, I’m going to hold it so I can get a good idea of it; just in case you need help finding it at any point,” she said, eyes scanning the page as she spoke. “I’d love to see this in real life – it’s gorgeous.”

“I think so, too,” you grinned, eyes twinkling. And, suddenly, your body felt light in a way that could only indicate one thing. . . you knew there was no time like the present. “I’m ready.”

Gia looked up at your words, her own eyes donning a spark as she tucked the notepad onto her lap. “If you’re ready, I’m ready,” she smiled kindly, her eyes trustworthy and open for opportunity. “First things first. Make yourself as comfortable as you need to. Sit, lay down. . . it’s up to you.”

You kept yourself upright on the couch, allowing yourself to sink back into its cushions a bit more. And for some reason, the thought of crossing your legs, criss-cross applesauce came to mind. So, you did just that, bringing your legs up to the couch and criss-crossing one over the other. You looked at your belly as you did. A timid grin crept along your lips at the thought of knowing you didn't have much longer until you’d no longer be able to do this.

Thank you, sweet baby.

With one deep breath in, you felt your stiff limbs loosen with the comfort of the new position you found yourself in. And with the exhale, you looked down at the paddles in your hands, holding them probably a bit too tight as you felt your nails digging into your clammy palms. Still yet, you kept your grip, somehow feeling a bit more secure that way.

“Nice and comfy?” Gia asked, her warm, knowing smile aiding in relaxing your body even more.

You looked down at your hands, smoothing your thumbs over the cool plastic of the paddles. You knew this was it, that this could begin to change a lot; it could change everything. The thought of change was a frightening one, but with this change would come a healing journey like you’d never known. For you, for the baby, for Jake, even. . .

“As I’ll ever be,” you confidently answered. You were ready to embark on this expedition of mending.

“Perfect,” she said, her voice soft, reassuring. “Close your eyes, take a few deep breaths. Let yourself relax.”

You did as she said, and with one breath in through your nose and blowing it slowly out of your mouth, you closed your eyes.

You felt your chest rise and fall with each breath. You began to breathe deeper and easier the longer your eyes were closed.

“Good job.” You heard her sweet voice, feeling comforted by the simple fact that you knew she was still with you. Though you could no longer see her, you felt her. And that was more than enough. “I’ll start the paddles off slowly, just like last time. Turning them on in 3, 2. . .”

Your body instinctively jolted at the light humming sensation you felt against your palms, your eyes closing a little tighter. But, you quickly remembered the feeling from last time and it didn’t take you very long to get used to it. You even found a little relief in the alternating vibrations. Their consistent rhythm worked to ease your mind. Your eyes, though still closed, instinctively followed in the back and forth motion of the pulsations in your palms.

“Does this speed feel okay?” You heard her ask, her voice suddenly becoming more distant as you let yourself focus on the steady thrumming of the paddles.

“Yes,” you whispered, the sound of your voice echoing as though you were in a long, narrow tunnel. “Feels good.”

“We’ll start with establishing your safe place, y/n. Go ahead and start walking to it. Lead the way.”

My safe place.

Suddenly, as though the mere mention of it had some sort of ability to transcend you there, you began feeling the familiar cool breeze against your face. Faint sounds of the birds singing in the forest of trees filled your ears, becoming a bit louder as you found your footing against the lightly dampened grass beneath your feet. “The birds,” you felt yourself say. “They’re singing, their chirps are becoming clearer now.”

“Wonderful.” Her voice was heard all around you, echoing against the wind. “Tell me what you see.”

Your eyes, still physically shut, began to open in your mind. They squinted at the bright, warm rays from the sun. And as you turned your face upwards toward the sky, you could feel the radiance of the rays against your skin.

And, as you peered a few feet ahead of you, you witnessed a beautiful family of deer were perusing the lush meadow.

“The sun. . . It’s so beautiful and bright, but it doesn’t hurt to look at it,” you shared with her, squinting towards it with no negative effect, shocked by the fact. “And the deer. So innocent and pure. They’re so near to me, but not scared of me at all.”

“You’re doing amazing, y/n. Keep going, tell me what you can touch, what you can smell.” Her voice carried throughout the trees like the wind, meshing beautifully with the songs of the birds.

Bending down, you ran your fingers through the dewy blades of grass. They felt cool, soft. Like a blanket of emerald velvet. “The grass. It’s soft, a little wet.”

And then, the smells. The fragrance of freshly rain coated grass, as though an evening shower had just finished nourishing the ground before you’d arrived. The rainfall, sustaining the life of the pasture, the jude green grasses, the illustrious amethyst plant surrounding you. . .

The divine aroma from your favored flower overwhelmed your senses in the most alluring way. The bloomed field, surrounding you, holding you carefully in its gentle grasp.

“The lavender,” you felt yourself say, eagerly. “I can smell it, so fresh and clean; the sense of calm it brings me. . .”

You then felt the paddles pick up in their speed, ever so slightly, but enough that you could tell.

“Oh yes, your lavender,” Gia hushed as she positively tracked with you.

My lavender.

Gently, you sat your body down in the midst of the flowers. And once you did, you felt the urge to place your hands against your tummy, to feel the baby, just like last time.

There you are, right where you belong, you thought when you felt the smooth bump beneath your hands.

You felt nearly complete, nearly, but you knew something was still missing—someone.

And just when you started to look beyond the stems of lavender to find him, there he was.

Clad in the very same navy blue, three piece suit you’d seen him in the first time. The rays from the sun bounced off of his chestnut locks, his tanned skin radiant and glowing.

With a soft, lopsided smile, he slowly walked toward you. The vision of him, walking amongst the stalks of lavender as they gently swayed from the light breeze against his calves. . . You felt yourself sigh with relief.

This was safe. This was home.

Once he approached you in what felt like no time at all, he laid down right beside you, extending one arm out for you to join him. And as you did, letting yourself at last melt into his warm embrace, you were finally there.

Your safest place.

“I’m here now,” you muttered, feeling yourself smile warmly as you did. “And I’m safe.”

“Enjoy it for a moment, let it sink in, put yourself at ease.” You heard Gia’s voice, but the more you focused on Jake, the more distant she became.

You found yourself gazing into his eyes, sparkling like golden gems, as he cradled you in the crook of his arm.

In his amber-brown eyes, you saw your haven, your sanctuary of serenity.

A gentle smile graced his lips as he reached up, tenderly brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear. “It’s time to step away now, y/n,” he told you. Though, you knew it was truthfully Gia telling you, you heard Jake’s voice. You watched his lips move as he spoke, “You can do this. I’m right here.”

Again, you knew the words were coming from Gia. But, hearing them in his voice, as much as you didn’t want to leave him, it was the final push you needed.

It was time.

With only a bit of resistance, you sat up, slowly standing to your feet and urged yourself forward towards the unknown. When you looked back, you saw Jake standing gracefully amongst the fragrant blooms of your lavender.

Home, you thought. He looks like home.

With one final sigh, and with the most strength you were sure you’d ever mustered, you walked away from him.

Your hands found your belly for some extra courage as you stepped away, everything turning black for a moment once you got far enough. But, the further you went, a tiny, dim light caught your attention. It initially seemed like miles away, but with every step you took, it became worlds closer.

A lamp. You could finally see it. It was old, dusty. It was sitting atop a table, from what you could tell. . .

With one more step, the full picture started to come to you. You’d guessed right — it sat on top of a round, wooden table that only had one leg in the center, making it lean a little to the left. The white, canvas lampshade was stained so badly. . .

The stains were reminiscent of those that come from years of smoking cigarettes near it.

In fact, you were shocked that you could tell it had ever been white.

As the image became more clear, you saw a black ash tray next to the lamp, full of cigarette butts, all but confirming your cigarette theory. You could smell the smoke, too, as though someone had just finished one off. The stench was putrid, the chemically treated tobacco mixed disgustingly with the other trash laying on the table.

To the right, you saw a sofa. The blue cloth over the cushions, stained just like the lamp, was tattered and worn. It was full of holes. Tiny, black holes. Cigarette burns?

God, the smell was nearly becoming too much. It was so strong, potent. Cigarettes and filth. Utter filth. Filth that you suddenly began to remember being suffocated by as a child.

No wonder you liked things so pristinely clean. . .

The shag carpet beneath your feet felt like it had never been vacuumed after years of wear. It was littered with half empty beer cans, more cigarette butts, rat droppings. . .

God — the fucking smell. A triggering smell—one that had your stomach turning to the point that vomit rose in your throat.

The paddles sped up a bit more, much more noticeably this time as they forced your brain to grasp what you were experiencing.

“Tell me what you see, y/n. Tell me where you are.” It was no longer Jake’s voice that you were hearing, it was once again Gia’s. And though you missed the sound of his, you were so happy to hear her, reminding you that she was still there.

This was the past. Gia was the present. You were with Gia.

You stepped to the side, glancing around the room you were standing in, trying with all of your might to not allow the stench to make you sick.

“It’s—I’m in a living room, I think. . .?” You noticed a television set, one from the late nineties with a built-in VCR, sitting on top of a makeshift table made of three small slabs of particle board.

The more you looked around, you noticed there was only one average-sized window in the whole room, next to the white front door. The door was scuffed to hell and looked ready to give at any second. The blinds attached to the window were ripped to shreds, hardly hanging onto the frame.

“Y-yeah, it’s a living room. It’s. . .It was our living room. One of them, at least. I’m fully beginning to. . . To recognize it. . .”

You’d lived in so many homes as a child, seen many living rooms. But this one, this home and the walls surrounding you. . .this one was different. While most homes from your childhood didn’t leave you with happy memories, this one felt—evil. This had been a personal hell.

Anxiety, heavy sadness. . . this room was wrought with it.

And as you heard a certain laugh, deep and throaty, from the next room over, your stomach churned and your mind went fuzzy. That sound. It was vile and thick with too many years of smoking. That particular laugh was associated with ugliness and gut-wrenching fear.

The man that the laugh was attached to. . . This was his house. You remembered that now. There was no safety here. This place was only associated with feeling powerless, forgotten, and lonely.

The paddles wiggled in your hands, the vibrations reaching your worn nerves.

Elsie was here, though. Somewhere. You knew that.

And Elsie had helped in making it less lonely — just knowing she was in this past-tense moment filled you with ease. Your sister was here.

Though, you knew for past Elsie, she was still trapped. Even though she comforted this adult version of you that was invading. . . there was still no escape for little girl Elsie.

This place had been desolate, with no chance for escape. You’d been tied here by invisible rope.

Fuck. Where was your sister? You could feel her near, but she wasn’t in the living room with you. Your skin prickled at what she could be experiencing. . . You couldn’t fully wrap your brain around it.

But this was the past. Right now, you just needed to focus on your surroundings.

Living room. The living room.

Your mind was quickly skirting back to your present placement. And, rather than standing, you suddenly realized you were sitting on the ground. Strangely, your hands in the memory were free of the paddles, tucked safely in your lap, shaking. . . And not daring to touch the dirty, shaggy carpet.

For a split second, you wondered. . . Why were you not sitting on the couch or a chair? And why were you sitting in a place you felt you couldn’t move from? Was this how you’d been placed originally? In the past?

You observed the wobbly dinner table in front of you and realized it had zero chairs. And on a second glance around the room, you noticed something you hadn’t before. . . a sleeping form on the couch.

So, it seemed, with the occupied couch being the only other piece of furniture in the living room besides the table. . . the floor had been your only option.

You used the unconscious state of the room’s other occupant to your advantage and turned a bit to observe the person. The person’s face wasn’t visible and their body was covered in a blanket filled with holes and torn more than it wasn’t. But. . . You could see hair.

Blonde. Yellow-blonde. Box-dyed with the cheapest dye.

Long hair, ratty and knotted to the point of almost no fixing it. The way the strands shone a little bit under the dim lighting from the old, dusty lamp showed you it was very oily as well. . . It wasn’t a healthy shine.

The person on the couch, from what you could see, was far from healthy in any capacity. The body looked malnourished through the blanket’s holes. At closer inspection, you noticed an arm dangling off the sofa, peeking from the blanket.

The arm was littered in tiny holes and scars. . . from heroin injections, multiple cigarette burns. . . Then there was the red, irritated acne that littered the pale skin, between the various marks.

Poor thing. What a dreaded way to live life. . . Your heart broke in your chest and tears sprung to your tired eyes as your hand clutched at your tummy.

You could do that in the memory. You were you in the present, yet placed like you’d been in the past. . . so weird.

All you knew was you had a sense to protect the untouched life in your womb. The feeling of being a protector to your child was unparalleled to anything in this moment. . . You would never let the little life inside of you bear witness to anything like you had as a child. . .

Like your current situation.

Or, past situation, rather. . . This was not real. Not in the present. This was controlled — controllable.

The paddles jolted in your real hands, helping you to center you.

“Y/n,” Gia’s voice broke through your psyche, touching your brain delicately. You let out a sigh of relief at the sound of her soft spoken tone. “Can you hear me, girly?”

You nodded, but weren’t sure if she could see it or if the action was only visible in your dreamlike stupor. This was so weird. . .

So, you decided to respond the best you could with words. “Y—yeah,” you stuttered out, blinking rapidly as you tried (and failed) to keep tears at bay. “This is. . . So familiar, yet so forgotten. . .,” your voice faded out.

Your eyes in the memory were now pinched shut, trying to keep the laughter you could still hear from the kitchen (because, yes, you somehow knew exactly where it was coming from) far away.

But it just seemed to be getting closer. . .

“Tell me where you are, y/n,” Gia requested, soothing, yet strong. “Take me with you. You are going to be okay.”

“I—I can’t—,” gasping, you shook your head.

Willing the menacing, thick chuckle to fade, you squinted your eyes open slowly, tried to refocus on the living room to tell Gia what you could. Your hands still held your belly, but your thighs came closer to your chest. You wanted to scrunch up and stay in your bubble.

“Y/n.”

Your blood ran cold and your skin prickled harshly with goosebumps. Fear. Terror. Dread.

The voice wasn’t Gia’s. It wasn’t Jake’s. No. It was coming from behind you. The person on the couch. The worn down, baby blue fabric couch. The navy blue patterns of it, a distant memory, washing back quickly like a flood. . .

This was definitely a memory. A real thing that had happened in the past. This had happened before. It was deeply repressed.

A dark memory. Bad. So, so bad.

You felt dirty for more reasons than one now. . .

Looking down, you noticed your outfit had changed. Though you still looked as you currently did in 2022, you were wearing an outfit you had as a child. The attire made your skin crawl.

This pajama set, you were made to wear it more often than not.

A tiny, satin set. Too small for you to properly fit into. How old were you? Nine? Ten? Was this right before you went to live with. . .?

“Pig.”

No. Not that nickname. No no no.

You hadn’t heard that since your mother had called you–.

The person on the couch.

“Piggy.”

Did you have it in yourself to face her? Could you? What would happen if you didn’t? No. No.

You had to. The baby, safe in your belly. . . that baby needed a mom who could face her demons and not fall to them.

. . .Fall to them like the shell of a woman, on the couch behind you, had fallen to hers.

You felt crippled with fear, but brave beyond comparison all at once. . .

The steady tremors from the paddles in your hands were the best help you could’ve had in the moment, reminding you of your power. . .

And, once you’d given yourself the strength to swivel your body to meet her eyes. . . there she was.

A woman whose face had become a shadow since she’d left you. The moment she’d left you. . .a mess of snot and tears, head throbbing as it laid on Elsie’s shoulder, desperate to understand a mother that had never seemed to love you.

Your eyes were her eyes. Thankfully, that was about where the similarities in your features stopped.

She was paler than you. Her lips, thin and cracked from lack of hydration where yours were full. Her cheekbones were sharp and protruded more than they should. . . Your cheekbones, defined, yet concealed under soft skin you took very good care of . . .

And her face. . . It also lacked freckles. You had the tiniest spatter of light freckles that sat at the tops of your cheeks. Your freckles, mimicking angel kisses, which stayed mostly hidden save for the summertime when they’d make an appearance after exposure from the sun. Her skin was washed out, lacking color. It was as if she hadn’t even been exposed to the sun for a long, long time. . .

Perhaps you might’ve looked more like her than you could tell at this moment. But, right now, all you saw was a sunken face, holding more wrinkles and lines than a woman her age should hone. And, her eyes, even if they looked like yours initially, were glassy and hollow from too many drugs. . .

Right now, they held uncertainty and a rage that was becoming more and more apparent the longer you looked into her eyes. . .

She looked lost. . . Confused, yet furious.

The fury, pointed towards you.

“Get. Up,” your mother ordered, voice cracking a bit, spit flying past her chapped lips. The tone of her voice. . . it made your heart jump into your throat. “Do your job, Pig.”

Before you could respond, you felt heavy footsteps make their way into the living room, shaking the weak structure of the small home that seemed to be falling apart around you.

“Move, you lazy drug slut,” a booming voice growled. You knew it was aimed towards your mother. “Give little Piggy some space to sit next to Mr. Morgan, hm?”

Mr. Morgan.

The paddles buzzed in your hands, re-centering you.

You didn’t dare look at the man who’d entered the room behind you, knowing it was the same man attached to the laughter from the kitchen.

So, it was only out of your peripheral vision when you noticed him round to the other side of you, getting close to your mom. The next thing you saw, faded from the corner of your eye, were fat, sausage-like fingers reaching to yank the thin blanket off your mother. The unmasked view of her figure broke your heart further, her body shaking, bones on full display through her papery skin, begging for a fix. . .

It didn’t take long for those same fingers to forcefully clutch her shoulder and yank her up. You could’ve sworn you heard the bones in her shoulder crack, but she barely let out a yelp. It was more of a tired groan, eyes closed and eyebrows drawn in with irritation towards being disturbed.

But, she shook more. . . Her bones, most likely rattling under her skin. And this time, you knew it was more from nerves and terror, than lack of drugs. She was just trying to play tough.

Mr. Morgan (the name, making bile rise in your throat) came to sit at the end of the couch, but your eyes once again drew shut and your body became rigid. Even if you were facing the couch, you still only kept your body towards your mother’s. She wasn’t safe, by any means. But she wasn’t Mr. Morgan.

You couldn’t look at him. The vile smell of him alone, sweat and grime from lack of showering. . . You were going to hurl on the spot. The way the nausea quickly began to rise in the hollow of your throat, you knew there was no time to get out now. . . Your heartbeat was thrumming so vigorously in your chest, you felt like you were going to choke on its strength.

Then the ugly, bitter laughter was back again. . . Right in front of you this time, your mother moaning next to him. . .

A distant beeping in the background. . . what? Where was that coming–?

The intensity of the paddles increased, the vibrations working to balance you amidst the fear.

“Open your eyes, Pig,” Mr. Morgan grunted, reprimanding you. His voice was stark and loud against the decaying walls of the living room. You winced with what you imagined to come, your heart accelerating and your blood running colder than cold. “Open. Your. Fucking. Eyes, my little whor–.”

The paddles were working so hard to bring you back, but you couldn’t–.

“Y/n.” Gia’s voice rang out through the disgusting home, flowing into your ears, reassuring you. “It’s time to leave, y/n. Find your safe place.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, not with the tears streaming down your face and the way your breath was stuck in your lungs. Your chest stung from the way your heart rate wouldn’t let up. . . the way your heart raced, unrelenting and beating harder every time. . . . The pain was excruciating, making you want to keel over from the intensity.

There wasn’t a memory of leaving the room, you just knew you had left as you ran.

You ran as fast as your legs could carry you, eyes still shut to avoid being used by him–Mr. Morgan. God. You hated that man. You hated your mother.

But, you weren’t with them anymore. The rotting smell of the home and the body odor that reeked from the two people in your vision – it was all gone. You were out. So, you decided to open your eyes. You had to open them to find the place you’d created for a time just like this. . .

Your place. Your home. The field of lavender. Jake. Peaceful serenity, awaiting you amongst the birds chirping and the light blue skies. . .

So, with eyes open and tears streaming down your cheeks, you decided you needed to be there now. Now now now now. . .

And before you could request it any further, your feet were touching the lush grass and the skies were clear and powdery blue above you. . .

“Are you safe, y/n?” Gia asked, her voice much clearer when you were in the field, surrounded by nature. Your sanctuary.

“Yes,” you breathed, voice cracking just a little on the word. You hadn’t spoken for a while. . . Too scared to do so. Clearing your throat, you tried once more. “Yes. Yes, I’m safe. I’m in my safe place. The lavender. The beautiful, tall trees filled with green leaves. The breeze is perfectly warm against my face. . .”

“Wonderful,” Gia said, sounding relieved and stoic all at once. “You are okay, girly. You are okay. It’s not your current reality. It’s not right now. This is right now. You are safe.”

Yes. I’m safe.

Your breathing was coming much easier and your heart wasn’t pounding in your ears any longer.

Your hands found your belly, the sweetest little round bump. But where was. . .?

Then, you felt him. Jake.

Solid and sure behind you, his chest meeting your back. His arms, coming to wrap around you, cradling you and the belly that held his baby. Your head, falling of its own accord to lay back on his shoulder. . .

You were finally able to relax. Let go. The tears poured from your eyes, wetting your cheeks with steady tracks.

“Shhh,” Jake shushed you, the minty smell of his toothpaste lingering on his breath as it washed over your features. The sandalwood-vanilla of his cologne was reminiscent of heaven, you were sure of it. “It’s okay, baby.”

He swayed you a little, your eyes falling closed in peaceful surrender to him and this moment. . .

“Y/n, I want you to think of your box,” you heard the words, knowing it was Gia. But, you felt Jake saying it. Even if she was the one saying the words, you wanted him to help guide you, too. Your mind was a funny place.

His voice kept soothing you, “Think of the box and open it. Open it and place the memory you stepped into today inside of it. Secure that memory inside of the box.”

So, with one fleeting glance at the disgusting past you’d had to re-experience today, you mentally opened the lid to the box. And, as the lid opened, you let the people and the stingy place flow quickly into the sturdy wooden structure of the box.

You could have spit on the people and the place and the smells. . . Fuck it all.

The sureness of the box truly calmed you as the last little bit of the memory faded into the box.

“Tuck it away in your box. Just keep it there until you’re ready to revisit it again. . .,” Gia counseled, her words yet again came through as if Jake were saying them. His breath was warm against the column of your throat, lips near to your ear. “You have control of it, y/n.”

Once you knew it was all inside, you let the lid click shut. The little pieces of lavender you imagined to be skillfully painted atop the box assured you that it would all be over soon.

Beep beep beep beep. The beeping again. Familiar. You’d heard it momentarily at the disgusting, decrepit house. What was it?

“Y/n,” you heard Gia again, her words no longer masked by Jake’s voice. “Are you ready to come back to the office?”

As much as you wanted to never leave the man who still held you, you knew that the sooner you left the safe place, the sooner you could actually see him. He was waiting for you. In the lobby. In the present.

“Yeah,” you sighed with a sniffle, most of your tears dry after the safety you’d felt in the field of lavender. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

“I’m right here with you,” Gia assured you, her voice the closest it had been since initially closing your eyes.

You closed your eyes once more, your body feeling lighter. Letting yourself sink into real time, you felt the soft, camel leather of the couch under you, around you. Then came the smell of Gia’s essential oils, filtering in through your senses. Things were okay.

When your eyes cracked open, so tentative and slow, Gia was ready and waiting with open eyes.

But the beeping. . . It was still happening — it was incessant. And it was fully apparent now that the sound was coming from your belt bag, hanging on Gia’s office door handle.

Your heart monitor.

Shit.

“How long has that been going off?” You blanched, eyes bugged as you got off the couch to grab your bag from the handle. Though, your legs were weaker than you expected, body worn down. It forced you to sit back down to gain your wherewithal.

Noticing this, Gia stuck a hand out to get you to pause from trying again. “I will grab the bag,” she soothed. “You stay there. Give yourself time to adjust to the present time. You’ve been through it, babe.”

All you could do was nod and swallow thickly, your heart no longer beating hard enough to make the phone go off. But apparently it had accelerated at some point. . .

And then you remembered.

Mr. Morgan. He’d made your heart rate go ballistic.

When he’d approached, commanded you to open your eyes, and almost called you that horrible name. . . it had gone insane.

Your chest had been in so much pain, and you could remember hearing the incessant beeping, now. . .

“Fuck, Gia,” you combed a hand through your hair. “My heart . . . I remember. . . my chest was hurting like a bitch.”

Gia inhaled deeply. “Yeah. . . You know, how about I hold the phone that tracks it from here on out? To keep an eye on your heart rate?” She suggested, raising a brow as she walked back to you with the belt bag. Raising a brow, she eyed you as she got close enough to hand your belongings over to you. “We need to be aware of your health and the baby’s first and foremost, before anything else.”

You swallowed with a slight nod, not wanting to see where your heart had skyrocketed to. But you knew you had to see it. So, you unzipped your bag and shakily got your monitor phone out.

When you slid the screen open to check, your breath caught in your throat. Tears welled in your eyes at the very large number, flashing at you in red.

Shit. 185. What the fuck?

That could have gotten really bad, really fast if Gia hadn’t stopped you when she did.

“So. . . What had it gotten to?” Gia questioned carefully, wide eyes serious and ready to help.

You observed her for a second, not wanting to divulge just how high it had gotten for one reason in specific. . . The fear that Gia would make you stop EMDR if she knew just how high it had gotten — that possibility kept your lips sealed.

“Girly, I really feel it’s incredibly important that we keep track of that. I didn’t want to be invasive while you were under, but I heard it and I knew what it was. . .,” Gia tried to counsel you, taking your skeptical gaze as you finding her invasive. “I really didn’t like not knowing what your heart rate was. It’s best we stay aware of that. We have to be so careful of that, girly.”

You wanted to tell her. Duh. Why wouldn’t you want to? You told her everything else. . . The possibility of not being able to—.

“We will still continue our EMDR, y/n,” Gia grinned warmly with a wink. “I know that’s what you’re worried about. . .”

Your mouth puckered, as you took in a deep breath, gawking at the tall blonde across from you.

You couldn’t help the bubble of a laugh that spurted from your lips, in spite of your worried thoughts. You were in awe of your therapist’s intuition. “How did you know?” You questioned, already mostly knowing the answer.

The answer was: people in this profession were really very incredible. . . And Gia — she, in particular, was so empathetic and so aware of everything that mattered to you. . .

“It’s my job to tune in to that shit,” she grinned, sitting back in her rolling chair, one leg crossed over the other.

After sharing a smirk with her, you decided you might as well tell her. You were nearing the end of your time, and you assumed she still wanted to be filled in on what had happened during your time under.

“My BPM was. . . in the 180s,” you divulged, wary of her reaction. “That’s um—that’s really high,” you tagged on to the end, blowing out a breath, still shocked at the number yourself.

“Ho-ly fuck,” Gia stated, eyes wide and mouth in a straight line as she shook her head. “No shit that’s high.”

“We’ll figure it out?” you stated the question, hoping it would be ammunition for Gia to agree.

“Of course,” she nodded adamantly. Sitting up in her chair, she leaned forward. Her elbows, on the ends of her thighs, near her knee caps. “When do you turn it in? How long do we have with it?”

“I turn it in next week,” you answered, curious where she was going. “Hopefully I’ll get some results and sure answers. . .” Trailing off, you decided to shut up so she could get to her point.

“Well. . .,” she started, rubbing her palms together, eyes glancing down and back to you, “Would you be opposed to me attaching another monitor to you during our sessions? After that one is turned in?”

“That’s a great plan,” you answered, nodding with pursed lips. “Sounds safe.” Though, you paused. One more question. “And you’ll keep watch of it next time?”

“If that’s what you want from me, I’d love to be able to help you in that way,” she answered with a reassuring sureness in her tone.

“I do want that,” you replied with a sheepish grin. “I’d appreciate it.”

“Of course, girly,” Gia smiled, lopsided and full of ease. “We’ll make sure to get you through this therapy the safest we possibly can. Gotta protect you and that baby.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

After filling her in on everything from your EMDR vision, she’d given you a few more pieces of therapeutic wisdom and advice. Little things to follow if the memories came back with a vengeance.

But, you’d gone more than five minutes over your session’s time at that point, pushing her other appointment back.

So, you didn’t get long before the two of you had to bustle out. You’d been about eight minutes past session end time when you officially exited the small room, the session having just ended.

A long fucking session.

Your body was extremely weighed down by fatigue and exhaustion. So, when you finally connected with Jake, you sunk happily into his warm, safe embrace.

It seemed walking directly into Jake’s arms was exactly what your body longed for after leaving Gia’s office. You’d had little to no choice in where your body had guided you.

He had already been standing, waiting for you. His amber-brown eyes, wide open and full of readiness to help you. He’d seemed anxious to see you. You could tell as much by the tapping of his foot, the way he’d been worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, the wrinkle of his brows. . .

So, of course, as soon as you approached, his arms had widened to welcome you in.

Surprisingly, you hadn’t cried when you met his arms. . . Honestly, it was probably because you’d exhausted your tear ducts during your session. And all that you felt now was pure numbness. You didn’t know how to feel – just knew that you were tired and needed someone to be close to.

And Jake was the person you wanted most.

Once safe in his embrace, you didn’t have the mental energy to even think about how it would look to Gia – but you knew she’d understand.

You felt Gia come up behind you, even halfway heard her introducing herself to Jake.

And even though you were out of it, you still heard Jake respond kindly, hearing the smile in his voice. When he moved his hand to shake hers, you didn’t turn around, just kept your face tucked into his shoulder, one of his arms still tightly hugging you to him. The pressure was really nice – it really calmed you down to feel so secure with him.

It felt like the field of lavender, but this was really real – and that made it inexplicably better.

Thankfully since you’d quickly scheduled the next session in Gia’s office, you didn’t have to wait much longer to head home. You didn’t want to leave his embrace, but you ended up turning out of Jake’s arms to tell Gia goodbye.

When you reached forward to give her a hug, she whispered calmly in your ear. “You’re safe. Everything is okay in the here and now. I’m proud of you, y/n. You are already making great strides.”

After telling her a quiet ‘thank you’, you turned to Jake.

“I’m ready when you are,” he assured you, lips turned up in an easy grin. His eyes were soft in a way that showed you he really was ready to be whatever you needed him to be.

You didn’t need to be told again. You were ready for food and sleep. So, after the two of you waved to Gia over your shoulders, Jake let you lead him out, opening the door for you from behind.

-🌼🌼🌼-

When you snapped out of your daze and found a bit of energy, you decided to divulge to Jake just how high your heart rate had gotten during the session.

You had expected him to be a little worried on your behalf, but he’d gotten. . . really, really worried. You’d go so far as to call it a minor anxiety attack.

His eyes had bugged, face had paled, and his breathing had gotten choppy. . . All signs of some serious anxiety on his end.

His care for the situation was apparent, that much was for certain. He’d babbled in a rush of words – voiced a lot of concern on your behalf and the baby’s. . . Well, that was what you could catch in his raspy, frenzied tone. You’d missed a few things as he’d rushed the words out.

It was really sweet how much he cared. You had to work to keep the tiny grin off your face in response to his obviously sincere regard for your health (and the baby’s). You’d kept your quiet smile at bay the best you could and calmly reassured him that you were wearing a heart monitor for a reason – so the doctors could track those weird things and get down to the root of why your heart sucked ass at times.

You’d explained that medical professionals had started dealing with it the night at the emergency room and would continue once your monitor got sent in within the next couple of weeks.

“I know today’s already been a lot, but do you have it in you to explain more about that night?” Jake asked, his breathing evening out as he rounded the curb, out of the office parking lot. “The night you went to the emergency room?”

“Yeah, totally,” you readily agreed, jumping at the opportunity to not think about the muddled images still flashing in your mind from your session. “Where do you want me to start?” You wondered aloud, peeking at him as you picked with a loose string on the seam of your leggings.

He cleared his throat in the way that indicated he was a little nervous. “What triggered it, exactly? Had you been okay at the bar that night? Was it because of something that had happened there?”

“It wasn’t really because of anything that happened at the bar, no,” you shook your head, looking down at the string you were pulling at, giving it a good yank to do away with it. “And I was kind of okay that night. . . Same as I’d been every other day around the time,” you laughed humorlessly, not missing those days at all.

But, you couldn’t help reflecting on the events at the bar. . . since he'd brought it up. That night, just thinking of it still gave you butterflies. . . The way he’d feasted his eyes on you as your song played. . .

Stay focused, y/n.

“Um— during those earlier days, I’d had several days where I’d been really fuckin’ dizzy. . . could hardly eat most days, always nauseous and puking. . .,” you crinkled your nose at the thought, shivering at the memories.

After getting over the thought of the constant vomiting, you stopped your train of thought to consider the fainting. All of the factors. You were not sure what to blame in particular. Though, you remembered Dr. Stevens’ opinion.

“Honestly, more than one factor triggered it. . . but. . .,” you drew in a breath, pinching your eyes shut at the worst part of the night. “I actually blacked out and fucking fainted,” you cracked one eye open to look over at him to gauge his reaction.

“You blacked— you what?!” His voice rose a little bit at the idea, the car swerving the slightest bit when he glanced at you.

“Focus on the road!” You shook your head, eyes now opened wide at his swerve. However, you did find his reaction a bit funny. “I’m fine now, Jake,” you reassured, reaching over to give his arm one squeeze.

But quickly, you placed your hand back in your lap to avoid any sort of awkwardness.

You offered him a smile as your hand moved, looking up at him from your twitching thumbs, just as he glanced down at you.

His eyebrows were still knit with worry when he faced the road again. “You’re sure?”

“Mostly,” you answered, thinking of the heart monitor’s job, peering down briefly to where it stayed on your chest. “They’re tracking my heart rate to make totally sure. And I’ve even kept an eye on my hemoglobin — which is doing much better, too. Not that you care about that part—.”

“I care about it all,” Jake interrupted, his tone insistent enough to make you pause and look over at him.

Let him care, y/n. He wants to. . . Don’t tell him what he cares about and what he doesn’t. . .

From under your lashes, you studied him. You were glad he was now stopped at a light, giving you a little time to share a look with him. His eyes were full of warmth. . . The deep brown of his irises, capturing you. His eyes held yours so tenderly, desperate for you to understand he meant what he said.

And you did understand. You understood that he truly cared for you. . . and that his patience for you was incredible. You just felt completely undeserving of the amount of chances he’d given you after you’d hurt him so badly.

The look in his eyes had you trapped, completely enamored by all of him. . . Your heart beat was pulsing in your ears, helping you to feel light as a feather under his stare.

But, when a car honked to let you both know the light had turned green, it jolted you both, effectively tearing your focus from the other. He was driving again and you were back to looking through the windshield to continue your story.

You cleared your throat to break up the air.

“We um— we checked all the boxes, you could say. The doctor was sure to put measures in place to keep an eye on all of the things that could have been a major issue to trigger that,” you spoke confidently, to give him affirmation that things were okay. “So, yes, I’m sure I’m fine now and I’m going to be fine in the future.”

Out of selfish desire, you let your line of sight float back to him. Yet again. It was just so easy to sit and admire his natural beauty. . .

Jake sucked in a breath, so deep from his chest. You could tell he was considering your words, one brow still arched in contemplation.

“Okay,” he sighed his response, relief evident in his looser posture. He eased up his grip on the wheel, leaning back in the seat. You tried not to watch the way his jeans stretched over his lap. “So,” he started, “is there anything else you found out that night? A big, prevailing reason you quite literally blacked out?”

“The doctor I spoke to thinks it’s because of this underlying condition I most likely have — called POTS.”

“POTS?” He asked, his tone curious. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that.”

“It’s just a blood circulation disorder. I think I’ve had it nearly all my life. But it can be brought on by stress and cause things like fainting. . .,” you trailed off, glancing down at your belly. “Which I was obviously feeling a lot of with the baby. I mean, talk about massive life change,” you smirked, rubbing the bump that was more and more noticeable every day.

“And I was the only one who knew this giant thing for a bit. . . then only Elsie knew. And, yeah, when Josh found out, I was feeling a little better. Felt lighter. . .,” you paused, your next words, being important to you. “But I still wanted to tell you most,” your lips lifted in spite of yourself. “But, we weren’t really talking because of all the shit that happened between u–.”

You stopped yourself at that, though. Shit. Today didn’t really seem like the time to get into all of that. It had already been such a long day.

The car stayed silent for a few beats.

Once Jake started speaking again, your eyes found his handsome profile.

“Yeah. . .,” Jake offered in response to that, his jaw clenching. His eyes were dead-set on the road. The expression on his face, hard. Yet. . .it wasn’t angry. Not angry at all, just thoughtful.

He seemed to be contemplating it all.

He proved you right with his next words, bringing you back. “I need you to know—I’m really fucking sorry for not being so present—for not noticing more. I wish I would’ve been more aware and been there for you. . . Shit, I should have noticed you weren’t eating normally and were constantly sick,” he rubbed his forehead once, jaw tight again as he spoke on the subject. “I was still just stuck in my own head over stuff — really hurt. I still am, I think. But, I also, more importantly, had no way of knowing that you were carrying my kid, so. . .,” he trailed off, clearing his throat. “So I didn’t watch too hard for things out of the ordinary — my mind was in other places.”

Other places, your mind repeated, mocking you. Like Maya. . .

Your stomach was still churning at the depressing thought of him having ignored you and still being hurt (albeit, you’d deserved it), when his voice echoed back through your train of thought.

“I did notice you weren’t home that night, though. . . After dropping Maya off at her place, I got home and you weren’t there. I. . .,” he sniffed, running a nervous hand through his hair as he looked both ways to make a turn. “I panicked, noticed your chapstick and house key were on the ground outside — it made no fuckin’ sense. I called Josh to ask him where you were — assumed he’d know. And, he did. But he told me the bare fucking minimum. I didn’t even know you were at the emergency room. He just told me not to worry and cut me off with an ‘I love you’ before hanging up on me,” Jake rolled his eyes at the memory, fists gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter. “Now I know it’s because you obviously really needed him. . . But at that point, I was so pissed. Obviously, you were in some sort of bind and there was nothing I could do to help since we were. . .,” he let his train of thought fade into nothing. Your mind was a frenzy of everything he was telling you, but you tuned back in when he began speaking again. “And then your heart monitor came in the mail. . . I didn’t even think about how they could be connected. I just knew the very little Josh had told me from that night and then I saw a damn heart monitor show up. . . I was just super fucking confused and terrified for you. . . I was trying my best to connect all of the dots.”

“Well. . .,” you started, not sure if you should say what you were thinking. But still, you did. “It wasn’t really any of your business at that point. I didn’t want to make you— it was just a lot to process for me and we. . .,” you trailed off, at a loss. Still so tired from the session. “I don’t know. . . I had reasons.”

“I know, y/n,” he responded, voice tight with masked emotion.

You didn’t know what to say after that. Your eyes were trained on what was outside the passenger side window.

The air in the car was dense, slightly awkward on your end.

It was strange how weird things could feel after a damn conversation when, just a week ago in this very car, you’d had him in your mouth.

It was slightly embarrassing that a hard conversation topic was what it took to make both of you freeze up. But, somehow, you could still find the wherewithal to have your mouth on his. . . Mhm.

That was what you got for making sex such a giant thing before. . . now you’d made that easy and everything else fucking taboo.

But the sex had just been too good to not make it something you did all the damn time. . .

God, you missed sex with him. . . Him, inside of you, his hips going at a perfect pace. . .

Thanks to your motherfucking hormones, you were back in the living room floor with him. . . So often, you went back to that one rainy morning with Aretha Franklin on the turntable. . .

The look on his face when you fucked him, one of your favorite sights. That morning, just like always, he’d watched you so closely. . . Your face, your breasts, your ass, or your pussy that was wrapped around him, so tight.

As he fucked you so slow and purposeful, a hand raising your leg to get a better angle, he hit a secret spot inside of you. Your toes had curled as you whined his name.

And just as his name fell from your lips, he’d scrunched his brows, and let his mouth fall open with certain movements of his hips. His jaw, clenched, when you’d flex around him or biting his lip when you’d let out a shaky breath. . .

“Y/n?”

“Yes?” You shook your head of the fucking delicious scene in your memories.

Now was not the time.

To show respect, you did your best to wipe the picture and put your full attention on him. You glanced at him. He looked so beautiful under the natural light of the early evening and the streetlights. And his hair looked so healthy and long. . .

“I’m not upset or anything that you kept any of it from me,” he ventured to explain, your mind coming back to the topic at hand. “I need you to know that.”

“You’ve kind of already told me all of this before,” you started with a smile, eyeing the radio for a bit.

Music. You needed music.

You began to mess with the buttons, turned down the volume, and hooked your phone up to the aux. “I know you, Jake,” you continued with a sigh, scrolling your playlists, finding a song you were suddenly craving to hear. “I know you well enough to know you aren’t upset with me for keeping it all from you for a bit. You have a good heart.”

“You give me too much credit,” he humorously laughed. “I’m not always so sure about how good I am these days — kind of always doubted that about myself and right now is no different.”

At his words and sound of disbelief, you looked over at him with a wrinkle in your brow. His own eyebrows were set with an odd, unreadable emotion. You hadn’t clicked the song to play yet. This was too important to not address.

“Jacob,” you said sternly. His eyes stayed glued to the busier street. “I don’t give you ‘too much credit’. I just see you and know you well – anyone who truly matters sees you for who you truly are. I, like all of them, love y— appreciate everything you are.”

Shit. What was that that almost slipped from your lips?! Nothing. It was nothing. Ignore, ignore, ignore. . .

You were just hormonal and emotional.

You continued with intent to make your point known, doing your best to forget the slip-up. “I’ve made my fair share of mistakes – we all have. Don’t be so hard on yourself. I’m not about to hold anything against you right now.”

Cracking a smile, you decided you wanted to throw in a bit of a joke. “I mean, I would have to hold it against you if you killed someone or some shit,” you giggled, his own raspy laugh joining you.

But fuck, you couldn’t ignore that one emotion you were feeling. . .

It wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. You didn’t know why the fuck you’d said that word of all words.

But this feeling. . . It was intense like love could be. It had your heart in your throat and your tummy tied in nervous knots. . .

You’d felt a need to say the words. A need for him to know how much you. . . how much you. . . How much you what, exactly?!

This was going to drive you fucking nuts.

So, to break the nonstop, crazy wave of thought, you played the song you felt like playing at the moment.

The song was “In the Moment” by Snoh Aalegra, one of your favorite R&B goddesses.

And, of course, the lyrics matched your heart. Perfectly. Oddly. Precisely. Music was your favorite language.

Do you mind if I try to come apologize to you?

'Cause I said some things that I realized wasn't true

You couldn’t stop your movements when your head slowly turned to look in his direction. His sunglasses were off due to the darker sky, so you could see every blink of his pretty eyes, long lashes touching the dark circles under his eyes with each blink. He watched the road carefully, maneuvered around cars with an ease that had you hoping he’d be around to drive you to the hospital on a certain day in May. . .

Your heart swelled in your chest at his attention to the road. This particularly protective nature of his, as the driver, was new. . .

And I'm sorry for it

I'm emotional

This is your fault

Please listen when I say

I care about you

You tried to look away from him. Really, you did. It just couldn’t be helped. The way these lyrics kept pulling something from deep within your soul as you watched him drive. . .

But you still couldn’t figure out what was getting pulled in you, exactly. It felt weird, but only in a fulfilling way. . . Your heart ached, your head clouded with all things surrounding him.

And then, just as he stopped at a red light, his eyes met yours.

You had been caught red handed in your stare, but it didn’t seem to matter. Not to you, not to him. He smiled at you, the same, warm smile you knew all too well to be uniquely his. (And hopefully your baby’s.)

The lyrics and melody of the song were adding to your already emotionally-tangled state. You just wanted to be with him always—hold him tight so he couldn’t leave. Never wanted him to leave.

Out of pure instinct, your hands found rest on your tummy, tucking underneath the bump. His smile only grew, stretching wide on his lips as his eyes followed the movement. Your heart did a little flip in your chest.

This moment. . .

His foot let off the brake when the light turned green, pulling his eyes away from yours. The music coasting through the speakers said all the things you so desperately wanted to say. Though, Snoh sang them far more beautifully than you could ever say them yourself.

I was in the moment

I ain't really mean what I said to you

So put away your pride, baby

We can work it out if you want this, too

You hoped on every star in the winter sky that Jake was listening to the words, somehow feeling them as deeply as you were.

But if I could stay, I’d stay with you. . .

Your phone ringing snapped you out of your reverie and when you looked down to see who it was, you were not expecting the contact you saw.

The OB office.

Your heart started speeding up in your chest again, breath catching and nerves wracking your system at the most inopportune time. As you turned down the song to talk to the person on the other end, you contemplated why they were calling. . .

The appointment had already been rescheduled. . . So what else could be needed? Was something wrong?

You felt Jake’s palm splay across your thigh, fingers giving light, pulsing grips to the muscle through the fabric of your leggings. Skin heating at his touch, you looked up and over at him.

“Who?” He whispered, quietly as he could.

“OBGYN,” you mouthed back, clicking the green button to answer at the same time that he raised a brow in confusion.

“Hello?” You spoke into the phone, trying to keep your voice even-toned for whoever called you.

“Miss y/n?” Dr. Rose responded. Her Southern accent, friendly, on the other end, sounding happy as a lark.

Hearing her sound okay helped your nerves ease up – weren’t quite as frayed as they had been to begin with. Jake’s hand was still on your leg, offering reassurance. But while his touch did comfort you, it also made your heart rate speed up and head swim for another reason entirely.

Thankfully, considering the baby, your heart was slowing down. . . If Dr. Rose sounded fine, then surely things were fine, right?

“Hi, Dr. Rose,” you said, voice perking up just the slightest bit. Looking out the windshield, you focused on the pretty colors in the sky. All light pinks, oranges, and the prettiest periwinkle thanks to the winter evening’s premature setting sun. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh, more than, Sweet Cakes! Just checkin’ in to see that Friday still works for ya,” she explained, her drawl not quite as thick the more she spoke. But it was still there and it made you feel warm inside for some reason.

Admittedly, you knew it was partially due to the fact that she seemed to only be calling to confirm your appointment. According to Dr. Rose, everything was ‘more than’ alright. . . you released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Yeah. It works for me,” you sighed, running a nervous hand through your hair, knee still bouncing with the unexpectedness of the phone call. “Let me check with Jake real quick. I’m with him right now,” you held your hand over the speaker, looking over to your handsome driver. He’d just made it onto a highway, but momentarily glanced down at you. You hushed your next question, not wanting to disturb Dr. Rose. “Does Friday still work for you? For the week 17 appointment?”

Jake’s face opened up at the question, his eyes brightening with a smile that lifted the corner of his mouth. “Of course,” he quietly responded. “I have the whole day blocked off just for that.”

Your stomach did somersaults at him being so excited for the appointment, but you still dipped your eyebrows in at him. “You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered back. “Take the whole day for it.”

Jake shook his head, and with a dimple in his cheek, he just looked back at the road. Didn’t even acknowledge what you said any further.

You closed your eyes, a small smile on your lips at his desire to be fully available – it gave you butterflies. Back to the phone call at hand, you faced the windshield again to continue the call with your OB. “Dr. Rose?”

“Yes ma’am,” she excitedly greeted back.

“It still works for us,” you said, the smile not fading from your lips. Us. You really, really loved the sound of that word coming off your tongue. “Are you sure you’re still okay doing the appointment before week 18? I know how you feel about all of that. . .”

You didn’t know why you were asking – shouldn’t have even said anything. The idea of putting it off any longer was not what you wanted, and you didn’t want to make Dr. Rose think you’d be okay with that. But, it was too late now. You’d already asked.

“Oh, yes, babygirl. I’m the one that made ya wait past week 16! I felt bad, but I didn’t want ya to have any lull period,” she boomed on the other end, sounding so genuinely kind-hearted. It made your heart feel so full. “Completely fine with me – why I offered it to ya! I gotta admit, I’m a little excited to be findin’ out the gender a week earlier than normal. Ya know I never do that for my girls, but you’ve just seemed very special to me since the day you walked in. You’re a good seed in a bag ‘a bad ones, sweetie pie. So, I just had to make an exception.”

“Thank you so much, Dr. Rose,” you gushed, a tear coming to the corner of your eye at her sentiment.

“I knew it would drive ya nuts havin’ to wait.”

“It would have,” you giggled, agreeing with a sniff to attempt to rid yourself of the tear.

She laughed heartily on the other end. “You have a beautifully passionate heart, little miss y/n,” she remarked. “You’re goin’ to be a wonderful mama for it.”

Aaand, there was no stopping the tear as it turned into a couple more, drifting down your cheek.

Jake must have looked over at the perfect time, because as soon as the tears fell, he was squeezing your thigh once more. His hand had never left your body.

But, you really needed him to stop holding you and caring because you were going to pounce on him. No questions asked. . .especially with the fluffy headspace you were in.

Emotional over a phone call or not, your body reacted to him in ways you couldn’t stop.

“How’s your heart?” Dr. Rose was in your ear again, bringing you back. She was in no rush whatsoever. You were shocked that she seemed to want to keep the conversation going. Even after the first question, she continued with another. “I know ya filled me in on it a little bit last week on the phone, but any more updates?”

“Doing alright, I think,” you responded, sniffling at her eagerness to stay updated on your wellbeing. Was she just being a good doctor? Probably. But, still. It meant a lot to you. “I will send my monitor in on the 17th. I’m so ready to be done with it,” you replied with a huff of a laugh, looking down to mess with a loose string on your oversized jacket. “And I think everything else has gotten much better since that ER visit, too. Just keeping an eye on things,” you finished, happy to explain everything to her.

This phone call was officially a highlight to your day now that you knew there was no reason to stress over it. Dr. Rose just made you feel good. You really enjoyed talking to the older Southern woman. Her heart shone through her personality. And, whether she made these efforts for all patients or not (you were sure she did), it just meant the world to you that she seemed to be so thoughtful.

She seemed to take very seriously that it was a vulnerable time in any woman’s life. Dr. Rose just seemed to do very well at her job. You were grateful for her.

“When Mount Sinai sent over that information all those weeks ago, I gotta be honest, it stressed me for ya for a bit,” she said, voice suddenly thick with a sort of concerned emotion. Not worried anymore, you could tell that much. But, it was obvious she had been troubled by it when it initially happened, from the way she sounded now.

“Although, when I read all of their tests on my end, I knew you’d be okay. Just a bump in the road, sweetie – it happens. You will be just fine!” She reassured you in her twang, the words made your head clear in a way you’d needed since the night at the hospital. “And, that sweet baby was doing so great still, in spite of it all. You’ve got a strong one, mama.”

Yeah, there was no stopping the onslaught of tears at those words. Your baby was strong. You were so proud.

“Yeah?” You sniffed. “You think so?”

“I know so. That little one was movin’ and groovin’ already that first day. . . that sure doesn’t happen with every baby! He or she is very special – just like their mama,” she emphasized, sniffling on her own end of the phone. “Well. . . . as long as this Friday still works for you, I think I can let ya go, honey bun.”

“Yes, it does,” you confirmed once more, pulling the sleeve of your jacket over your hand and patting your cheeks with it. “Thank you again.”

“No need to thank me, Sweet Cakes.” You could hear her smile through the phone, imagined her lips covered in the prettiest bright red matte lipstick. “You have a good nigh– oh! Before ya go. . . .”

“Yes?” you questioned curiously, eyebrow raising with a little grin on your lips.

“You mentioned a Jake earlier. Does this Jake happen to be the baby’s daddy?”

You blushed, looking over at him. He glanced over at you at the same time, an eyebrow raising when you caught his eye. Your cheeks heated even more when you looked into his eyes. Your baby’s daddy.

“He is the baby’s daddy, yeah,” you explained, continuing to watch him as you said the words. He had to keep his eye on the road, but you saw how his lips stretched, the smile showing his pride at the title.

“And he will be comin’?”

“He will be there,” you affirmed, your heart racing in your chest at the idea of him being there with you. It had you equal parts jittery and utterly overjoyed to have him be present at the appointments.

“Wonderful. Sounds like a good daddy already,” she gushed from her end of the phone.

And when he came to the next light, much nearer to the complex, you watched him and waited until he looked over at you. When his eyes found yours, glowing amber-brown in the nearly-set sun, your heart squeezed inexplicably in your chest.

“He is a really good daddy,” you answered, tears threatening to clog your throat.

After you said the words, you watched his eyes become wet with an unnamed emotion. A wide, slightly shaky grin on his pretty lips. With the addition of a pink blush in his cheeks, you wanted to be able to read the exact way he was feeling.

But. . . at the current moment he suddenly seemed impossible to read. There was something behind his eyes that seemed so familiar and so hazy all at once. . .

Or maybe you were just really, really tired.

-🌼🌼🌼-

“I don’t have to go to this tonight,” Jake offered, pulling into the complex.

You raised a brow, looking at him. As much as you wanted him to stay with you after today’s session, you knew that sleep was the first priority. He’d end up sitting around most of the night anyway.

If things were different, you would ask him to lay down with you. You’d keep him close. But. . . That wasn’t how things were for the two of you.

You needed a nap and he needed to be with his girlfriend. As much as it sucked, she took priority over you. He wasn’t yours.

You already felt selfish enough for taking his entire early evening away from him. You didn’t want to steal any more of his night.

“No, Jake,” you giggled, trying your best to play off the want to have him near. “I’m good. You’ve done everything you can for me tonight. Don’t need you for anything else — you’re free.”

It was silent for a little bit as Jake found his parking space. You were too tired to keep any sort of conversation going, preparing to doze against the window as he went to back into his space.

Though, when he placed his hand on the headrest behind you to back in, you couldn’t help but turn to glance up at him.

The way he held his bottom lip between his teeth as he focused on situating the Jeep into the parking space, just right. . . You felt guarded and protected by the placement of his arm above you. It made your tummy flip.

And the mustache that kept making a reappearance on his pretty face, accentuating his plush lips perfectly. . .

You licked your lips as you watched him, your eyes lazy as you let your stare wander down his body . . .

But before you could get too far, Jake’s deep, raspy tone broke through to you.

“Hey.”

Fuck. Your tiredness was quickly becoming enemy number one, exposing you.

Quickly, you flicked your eyes up to him, swallowing thickly, awaiting him with vulnerability clear on your features.

For some reason, you expected to see him grinning at you being caught. But his features were unwaveringly straight, studying your face with his eyebrows drawn in concentration.

“Are you sure?” He asked, his eyes soon finding yours to pierce through. Damn, you felt naked under his stare. No two ways about it.

Your eyes sunk into his, wishing you were naked—.

“You’ve had a long day and I want to be available—.”

“I’m sure,” you cut him off, needing to get out of the car before you made a stupid move. You just needed rest; your tiredness was making you weak.

“Please. Go have fun,” you encouraged further, looking down to observe your nails, desperate to be repainted. Shaking your head, you continued to solidify your point. “You’ve done enough for me. You have a girlfriend who’s expecting you to be with her tonight.”

And if you stay here tonight, there’s no telling what I’ll try to do with you. . .

“‘Kay,” he responded. At his short tone, your eyes floated up to check on him. You watched as he quickly grabbed his keys out of the ignition, refusing to look at you until the last second. “I’ve gotta get going pretty soon then.”

“Yeah,” you breathed with a shake of your head, unsure of what else to say. And before he could get your door for you, you were doing it yourself — didn’t want to get in his way.

Whatever this conversation had become, it was far too much for your brain to wrap around at this moment.

You needed fucking sleep.

-🌼🌼🌼-

After you’d filled your Stanley and sat it on your bedside table, your next mission was to change into looser, cozier clothes. You stripped your pants and bra, and found a giant t-shirt. And your softest fuzzy socks had been a last minute must have before finding your bed.

Finally.

Almost as soon as you landed on your bed, your eyes were fluttering closed. The softness of your sheets and duvet, the cleanliness and the comfort of your bed was too incredible for you to resist sleep for long.

At the same time, Jake was getting ready for his time with Maya, and had apparently decided to shower. When the steady stream of water sounded through the wall, you relaxed even further. You focused on the soothing sound of the shower running and imagined how near he was to you.

He hadn’t left you yet.

Admittedly, putting your mind on Jake going about his business made you feel quite at home.

And that thought had been the seemingly final step to finding rest, sleep finding you quite easily with easy thoughts of your handsome roommate.

-🌼🌼🌼-

But, to your disdain, the nap didn’t last as long as you’d hoped.

After only a couple of hours, you’d woken up and couldn’t go back to sleep to get any more rest. You tried to fall asleep again. It was all you’d wanted after your emotionally exhausting day.

The longer you laid in your bed and tried to find more sleep, you realized it was just not going to happen. The small apartment felt too big and empty and your mind raced with the scene you’d witnessed during EMDR.

To your demise, the little wooden box had somehow cracked open a little while you slept. You figured it was because you’d dreamt of what you’d seen in therapy. Your subconscious was working without your complete consent.

That man with the thick fingers and clenched fists. . . He’d come floating out of the box first as you laid underneath your fluffy, white, clean bed covers. . .

Mr. Morgan. . . Who was he? You could not place his role in it all yet. . . While you were able to remember him and his living room now, that was about where it stopped.

The smell of him had stuck with you most since the memory. The potentness of his body odor in your subconscious had been a severe trigger – a trigger to things you weren’t capable of remembering yet.

But, you knew that whenever those things did get conjured up again, you wouldn’t be ready. You just knew. The feeling alone that came associated with him and seeing him again. . . made you feel grimy – made your skin crawl like bugs were living underneath your flesh.

Then there was your mother. You hadn’t been able to recall the distinct features of her face for years. Your grandparents didn’t have pictures of her up in their home – only ones of you and Elsie through the years. It was like she hadn’t ever existed.

But today? Today she was back. Full force. You felt her. You smelled her. You saw every. single. feature.

The stringiness of your mom’s hair when she’d been with the man in the recollected vision. . .

You couldn’t help but compare the hair in the vision to the fullness of it in small memories you cherished. . . There was a certain Christmas memory you kept close, her sweater had been brand new. Her hair, naturally brown and billowing out beautifully behind her. You had a few of those moments in time. A few decent memories you’d never let go completely away. No matter how much time passed or how foggy they became, you held onto them.

What struck you as disheartening was the way the woman transitioned from one version of herself to another in the fragments of time you could grasp. You remembered, it was rare to consistently witness the same mom growing up. You’d been forced at a young age to confront the fact that you never truly knew the woman that gave birth to you.

She’d been very dirty more times than not, you could remember that much now. From what you were beginning to recall, she rarely smelled good. Showers hadn’t seemed to be her forte from the grease that had been constantly caked in her hair if she wasn’t with your grandparents. Her skin had even been oily from her lack of showers, just as greasy as her hair.

The houses she had you living in, too. . . you could vaguely picture a few of those (besides Mr. Morgan’s). The one you were in within your recollected memory today had been so filthy. The grossness of the environment was coming to you in small bits. There’d been times you’d seen families of cockroaches climb into the pantry. . . Or when an occasional rat would scurry across the stained carpet, right past your feet. . .

You shivered in your bed at the thought, toes wiggling against your soft socks and covers. The loose sheet and duvet came closer to your chin as you tried to completely envelop yourself in your current reality. Things were safe.

It was just a-fucking-lot to process alone. And the last thing you wanted to do was burden anyone else with it. So, even if Jake had stayed with you rather than Maya after therapy, you knew you’d still be swirling in circles in your mind.

You were just glad you only had to wait a week for therapy to continue digging through this with the help of your therapist.

The images of the man and your mother kept flip-flopping in your mind, not leaving you alone — each taking turns in mocking your peace. It was enough that you felt your breath become choppy and your heart begin to race in your chest. Your clammy hands were clenching and unclenching over and over again, trying to find some sort of relief and distraction from the thoughts. The smells were coming back to you, vivid as they’d been during your therapy today. . .

And the moment you began to hear that distant, haunting chuckle from your past, embedded in the new flashes of memory, you shut your eyes. You squeezed your lids together so tightly. Your fists came to cover your eyes, pushing down on them just a little to see stars alongside the black.

Yet, the sound continued to get closer and closer to you. Desperately, you thought back on Gia’s advice should this happen.

One of the small pieces of advice she’d given you, when the session’s time was five-minutes passed.

“Now, if these things come back or more memories come to you and you would rather not think of them in the moment they do: take a break,” Gia had advised, going to hold your hands in hers between the two of you. “Take a break, wherever you are, and go to your safe place.”

She’d given you a couple of other things to try, but she’d stayed insistent that you try the safe place first. Every time. Get used to the place, make it a habit to run to it in these times.

So, you tried your damnedest to shut the thoughts out like you would on her soft, camel leather couch. Your eyes closed as you tried, working to focus on the idea of traveling to a field of lavender and Jake.

Though before you could get any further, your eyes snapped open, knowing you had one more step before you went there.

You tried to even your breathing, unclenching your fists. Once you’d relaxed enough to loosen your hands, you searched for some meditation music on Spotify.

And once you’d found a dreamy playlist, you laid back to feel it. Your goal: feel it enough to let go.

This time when you closed your eyes, you did it with less force and breathed in and out, in and out. Once again, everything was black. . . but just for the first minute or so.

It didn’t take long for you to hear the birds chirping and to feel the solid chest breathing beneath you. He breathed deeply – in and out, in and out, just as you did.

Almost as soon as you felt your body settle into him and the soft ground of the earth, you heard him speak, too. It was like you were hearing him through a rush of warm wind, a breeze drifting across your face. “You’re doing great, baby,” he soothed you in his velvety tone, running a sure hand through your hair, fingers tracing your scalp. You shivered, enjoying the wonderful feeling it gave you, all the way to the tips of your toes. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Further, you pushed into him, wanting to be as close to him as you could be. You wrapped your arms around him the best you could while laying down, needing to feel his body tightly against your own. When you did this, he wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you into him. Your round belly, pressed between the two of you, made your heart settle into a soothing thrum in your chest.

No other words were said as you laid there, the sky blue when you finally opened your eyes to the new place. The field of lavender, so lucious and smelling heavenly around you. The purple flower surrounding you smelled clean, peaceful, and a lot like. . . love. It was a strange idea that a flower would smell like love, but you’d come to associate it with someone who–.

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

Your eyes opened at a moment’s notice when you heard a knock on the front door. Somehow, the sound against the door managed to break you from your hypnotic-like reverie. The knocks weren’t small or soft thuds by any means, but it was odd that you’d heard them all the way through to your sacred place. All the way through your bedroom door. . .

Though, thankfully, after having a bit of time to visit the safest place your mind could conjure up, you were on the path to feeling fine again. So after laying in bed for a few more seconds, you got up and padded to the door in your fluffy socks.

Before you opened the door, you peeked through the peephole.

When you did, your eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. Your breathing evened out significantly for the first time since waking from your nap. And without any hesitancy, you unlatched the chain and unlocked the knob and deadbolt.

As soon as you opened the door, you were greeted by Jake, a very apologetic smile on his face. One of his hands covered his eyes in feigned embarrassment, making a slit in his fingers to look at you through them. His other hand was tucked in the front pocket of his black slacks.

He’d changed clothes after dropping you off.

Duh, he’d showered, y/n. He wouldn’t be wearing the same dirty clothes afterwards . . .

He was now dressed very nicely, his hair looking so healthy and full. A few strands were still damp here and there, from the shower you’d heard him start as you’d fallen asleep for your nap.

And goddamn. He smelled so fucking delicious – you could’ve melted into him.

Rather than focusing on the way the hints of sandalwood and vanilla in his cologne made you feel airy, you asked the question you couldn’t help but wonder. “Where is your key?”

A hint of a laugh was present in your tone as you crossed your arms over your boobs – which you noticed were slightly less sore than normal.

Pleasant surprise.

Oh, fuck. Your boobs. No bra. Only wearing a giant t-shirt and fuzzy socks. The thong you were wearing was a poor excuse at covering your ass.

Glancing down briefly, you were reassured by the length. It was long enough to fully cover your backside, went down your thighs a bit. . . but you still felt very bare.

When you looked up, you found that Jake had noticed your lack of clothing at the same time as you. His stare burned through your t-shirt, all the way down to your blushing skin. Your chest was heaving of its own accord, nipples hardening at the attention from him. . .

His gaze soon dropped down to your lips, his own parting as his tongue went to wet his mouth.

No. You had to be the responsible one here. You could do it.

So, you forced a subtle short cough, toes wiggling in your fuzzy socks. And, thankfully, it brought him back to the current situation.

His wide, brown eyes snapped to yours, staying there momentarily. It made your cheeks pink — the way he was unashamedly sharing this moment with you. He didn’t seem embarrassed at all as he bit his lip with a grin stretched over his lips.

Fuck.

“Your key?” You tried again with a squeak. Rolling your eyes, your short cough was real this time as you had to clear your throat. Ridiculous.

Not saying anything, he responded like nothing had occurred before. He motioned with his head towards the kitchen bar behind you. Your head turned to follow his eyes. And, you found his keys, still laying on the counter, not having been touched since before he left.

“Did Maya pick you up?” You asked him, arching a brow at the keys.

“Yes.”

“How’d you get back?” Okay, y/n, now’s not the time for twenty questions.

“Uber,” he simply answered, a little hiccup following the word.

“Well. . . did you come back for them to drive yourself?” You asked, turning back around to face him, hoping he wouldn’t say ‘yes’. You selfishly wanted him to stay.

For the first time since you’d woken up, your body felt light. . . . And, you’d noticed it had happened the exact moment you saw him outside your door.

Shaking his head, he finally looked at you head-on, and you could see his eyes were the slightest bit unfocused.

Oh. . . A smirk rested on your lips as you crossed your arms once more.

He had a goofy, carefree smile on his lips. And then you smelled it — the slightest tinge of alcohol on him as he swayed a bit towards you.

Raising a brow, your lips continued to match his grin. Giggling, you pondered aloud, “Did you have a drink or two, babe?”

You didn’t say that last word. Nope.

“Maaaaybe,” he said, shrugging with both hands in his pockets now, the silly smile still plastered to his lips. “It was a party, after all,” he tagged on to the end, a bit of a British lilt falling over his words.

A party. Hm. For some reason, you hadn’t even thought of that as a possibility. Why did the fact that it’d been a party make your stomach turn a little bit?

“A party?” You inquired, tucking your arms a little closer against your chest. And there was the tenderness again.

“Maya’s baby sister— eight years younger than Maya,” he over-explained, tripping over himself a little as he made his way through the door without any warning. “Turned twenty one today.”

Oh, that explains the excessive drinking, you gathered mentally.

But, as you stood there connecting the dots, you didn’t focus enough on the fact that he was falling into you through the door frame. Thankfully, you put your arms out in time to stop him from bumping into you to the point of knocking you over. But when you put your arms out to stop his fall, he got the wrong idea and put his arms out as well, crashing into you a bit as he wrapped them around you in a secure embrace.

It took a bit for you to register what was happening as you stood in shock at the gentle gesture amidst his drunkenness. And while you were registering it all, he must’ve gotten the idea that you didn’t want him so close to you. So, very slowly, he pulled away.

Rather awkwardly, you just stood there, arms still held out in shock from the sudden hug.

Why were you surprised at all? He’d been like this recently – just today at counseling, he’d been extremely attentive, holding you when you’d needed him. . .

Was this time different? Was it because now he was doing it for virtually no reason at all? You weren’t in need of his help or his comfort (that he knew of) at the moment. And, he still wanted to hug you – that was what caught you completely off guard.

He’s drunk, y/n, a voice reminded you. Don’t overthink it. It’s just because he’s inebriated.

And while you stood in the doorway, he continued to traipse past you, body lopsided and shaky. He was being very careful to not bump into you again, turning his body in odd ways.

When you turned to observe him, as he made it past you, you noticed that in the process of trying to steer clear of you, he was losing his balance – quite quickly.

So, you did the only thing you could think to do and followed behind him to help however you could.

He wouldn’t remember it anyway.

When he started putting too much weight on one foot and started tilting a bit too far to the side, you acted on instinct.

You wrapped your arms around his midsection.

It proved to be a bit of a feat to keep him upright and on his feet, but you tried your hardest. The man was wonderfully built. . . but solid as a rock.

Has he been working out? You couldn’t help but wonder this as your arms pressed a bit more into his strong abdomen.

You realized that thought process could become a distraction to the task at hand in no time, so you put it to the back of your mind. Instead, you just put all of your concentration into helping him stay on the track he desired. . . . Which happened to be his bedroom.

While trying to keep him stable, you felt your belly press further into his back. The baby felt safer there, between the two of you. It felt right to be so close. . .

But, again, you focused on the important goal of getting Jake in bed. You just kept him pressed to you the best you could with a baby in the way. Matching his footing from behind, you walked in even step with him.

Once you were officially at his door, you reached around him to open his door for him. When your hand met the knob and twisted it, he reached forward, placing his hand over yours to open it with you. The gentle action made your skin flame.

Though, it didn’t last long. You didn’t pause, instead continuing into the room. And the moment you walked into the room, he tapped your arm, presumably to let you know he was okay on his own. So, you tentatively let go.

Your arms suddenly felt empty, but you didn’t want to overstay your welcome.

He seemed to be a little better now, sitting down on his bed. He did it with more effort than normally necessary, but he still seemed more capable than he’d been a few minutes ago.

So, without a word, you went to head out of his room. Right before you could walk out the door, though, you heard him from behind you.

“Where you going?” He asked sadly, sounding more like a neglected child than a grown man.

Turning around with a brow raised, you asked the question with your eyes before saying it aloud. “Why? You’re good now, right?”

His eyes zoned out momentarily on your face. You just blamed it on the alcohol, feeling woozy. When he came back to Earth, his eyes met yours. His eyes suddenly seemed much clearer than before. All of the air in your lungs evaporated at the look he was giving you. Desperation was the most fitting word for it.

“I’m not good without you,” he offered, his eyes darting to his feet almost directly after saying the words. He leaned down to sloppily take off his boots, but still neatly placed them next to his bed after taking them off.

It was honestly pretty funny to watch. You would’ve been more amused if your mind wasn’t still reeling a bit from his words. You zoned out on his guitar, placed neatly on its stand.

He. is. drunk, y/n, your internal heckler reminded you. Stop overthinking.

But. . . drunk words are honest –.

“Can you help?” Jake asked, sounding desperate while trying to achieve a task.

You looked over at him, finding him standing now and struggling to take off a necklace. Without argument, you left where you’d been standing, dejected and confused, by the doorway, to help him.

When you made it over to him, you tapped his hands where they struggled with the latch at the nape of his neck.

“Let me,” you insisted, replacing his hands with yours when he moved them.

Once the necklace was taken off, you made your way around him to place the jewelry on his bedside table, whose lamp bathed the room in golden light.

You glanced down at the necklace, running a finger down the face of the medallion. Medusa. That was who was etched into the gold metal.

“You into Greek mythology right now?” You questioned, peeking over your shoulder at him.

When you did, the sight that beheld you took you by total surprise. Shirtless. Shirt gone. No shirt. Jake, halfway naked.

“Oh,” you uttered the word in a moan more than anything else. You even felt your jaw drop the slightest bit. You didn’t really think anything of it. You didn’t really care to control your reactions. He wouldn’t remember any of this. You just kept telling yourself that.

And with the way the heat flooded from your head all the way to your chest, blossoming to the pit of your tummy – you didn’t think you could control your reactions. Then, when he absentmindedly adjusted himself in his pants. . . Yep.

You bit your lip, tucking hair behind your ear. Suddenly, you felt completely out of control of your body. . . Your hormones were calling the shots – they (and Jake) were making you feel unsteady in the best possible way.

The only downside was: there wasn’t anything you could do about it. Morals stood in the way of your bodies colliding and fucking it out.

You understood that the Jeep incident had happened. Of-fucking-course — there was no forgetting that shit. But a big part of you also thought it would be best to leave the other night in the Jeep in the past.

It wasn’t fair to anyone involved. Right?

So. . . You just focused on the present moment. No sex. Just Jake in front of you. Tried to ignore the surge of want for him at seeing half of him bare.

But goddamn — what a beautifully welcome sight. . .

His body had changed in the handsomest of ways. His thighs, as you’d noticed recently, were thicker than before. And he was. . . just broader than before. It started at the width of his shoulders, and worked down his abdomen to fill out with toned, tight muscle — his new addition of muscle was thick beneath the surface. There was just more of him altogether. The perfect amount of body for you to touch, kiss, lick. . . . . goddammit.

He still wasn’t looking at you, instead making his way to the laundry hamper across the room. You observed the way the muscle in his back flexed as he walked. The expanse of skin under his shoulder blades — his back was thick with new strength. . .What in the sweet hell?

When he carefully swiveled on his heel to make his way back to you, after tossing the shirt in the basket, you still didn’t take your eyes from him. Just admired the sight and the fact that watching him could be your own little secret. . .

A secret not even for Jake to know.

Though, as if on cue, his line of sight connected with yours. And when it did – damn. Your heart hammered hard in your chest. Your breath was trapped in your throat, all of it stolen from you.

His chocolate eyes, although hazy from alcohol, were so fucking dark. Dark in the same way they’d been in his Jeep last week.

He looked the same as he had right before you’d bent over his lap. The same way he’d eyed you as you’d been on top of him – licking him, sucking him, touching him. . .

So, instead of holding his eyes, you decided you had to look away before you made matters any worse than they were at the present moment.

Awkwardly, you started your next sentence without taking time to think about it. “You good now, Ja–?”

“What was your question?”

When he interrupted you, you wanted to look back at him. But you didn’t. Not with the way his voice was suddenly much fuller – deeper, raspier. . .

Coughing to mask any sort of embarrassing action, you tried your best to think back to what you’d asked. You couldn’t even remember. . . oh. Medusa. Pointless question. Didn’t matter.

“It was noth–.”

“I don’t care. Still wanna know.”

“Jake, it seriously doesn’t matt–.”

“Look at me, y/n,” he demanded, daring to be argued with. “Quit acting like we’re strangers.”

God. Your teeth found your lip, biting harder with a deep inhale. You let the plumpness of your bottom lip fall from your teeth with a tight exhale. Your tongue pressed into your cheek, eyebrows knit with frustration, when you peered up at him.

Fuck it all. This was why you hadn’t let yourself look at him.

His hungry eyes scanned your body when he got his way. He stood there admiring all of you, but his eyes were zeroed in on your ass, not leaving it.

You looked down to get an idea of what he was looking at.

And, to your horror, you noticed that the t-shirt had ridden up, completely exposing the bottom curve of your ass cheeks.

But, you didn’t move to change it. Instead, you decided to just stand there. Let him look. You wanted him to. This wouldn’t even count in the morning when he forgot it all.

You definitely weren’t offended by his staring. Not in the slightest. Just sort of made you nervous where things would lead if he didn’t stop observing the exposed skin.

Diversion.

“Jake,” you purposefully spoke his name, vying for his attention up top, rather than having his eyes on your ass.

You got your wish. Sort of. His eyes dragged from your ass to your thighs. . . Only to stop at your tits. Your skin was flushed and your skin was tingling. Your breasts, heavy under his stare and nipples tightly peaked against your oversized shirt.

Fuck. Your body really was your worst enemy — constantly gave you away. Pregnancy hormones were a pain in the ass.

So, you did the only thing you could think to do: you watched him watch you. The idea of his eyes burning into you without the ability to control it. . . It was almost too much for you to handle.

Then, he wet his lips, afterwards biting into his plump bottom lip. You might as well have been naked under his stare, completely at his mercy.

His gaze stayed consistent on your chest, residing long enough to have you feeling so desperately needy for him. . . but, eventually, his eyes moved up to your face.

You missed his stare on your body as soon as it was gone.

“You’re so fucking—goddamn,” he breathed, his expression still dazed. But, now it was from more than alcohol. Maybe not from alcohol at all. “Do you know how good you look carrying my baby?”

Your head became a flurried mess at his words, the feeling carrying all the way down to your toes.

“Jake,” you tried, not sure what else to say besides his name.

But he didn’t respond with words. No, all he did was walk closer to you, still half-dressed. Seeing so much of his body made you feel so utterly pathetic for him.

In a split second, before you could even wrap your mind around it, his hands found your waist. A soft, yet firm hold of your body. His eyes were locked on your parted lips, his face slowly leaning in and coming dangerously close to your own.

And just as he was with you, your eyes found his lips, plush and wet from his tongue gliding over them. So kissable. All you wanted, all you needed, was to feel them collide with yours. To taste him again, to savor the sweetness that you knew to be Jake.

He was so close that you could smell the bitter remnants of alcohol on his breath. His breath, that felt so warm against your flushed skin. You couldn’t help it as you slowly let yourself lean into him. All too well, you knew how wrong it was. . . Yet, you were having the worst time finding it within yourself to care any longer.

Amber-brown eyes flicked up to yours, golden flecks glowing from the dim yellow lamp lighting. Your own eyes were wide under your fluttering lashes.

The drunkenness wasn’t as prevalent in his stare as it had been before. This felt so eerily intimate — like it had happened before. You couldn’t fucking shake the feeling this moment was giving you. The dim lighting. Him so close to you—tempting you. . .

For some reason, your eyes fluttered down between the two of you to your small, rounded tummy.

Jake’s lips brushed your forehead with the action, his hand coming to tuck hair behind your ear.

Your belly—it was nestled so well in the middle of your bodies, brushing up against his firm stomach. Protected.

And then a memory, clear now, came rushing back to you. It was coming out of the shadows, having been foggy and faded, but not anymore.

The only place to go was your room, your door ajar just enough that it opened easily on its own. Jake had reached a hand behind him to close it gently– not wanting to wake anyone.

Your lamp, still left on, just as it had been earlier in the evening, shed the perfect amount of golden glow.

You’d grabbed his face, pulling him away from you momentarily to appreciate his features. Finally out of the dark you could look at him.

And, God, you loved his face. Everything about it, having been so intricately and delicately created — making the most beautiful man you’d ever laid eyes on.

A quiet smirk had graced Jake’s perfect lips, his eyes tightly locked with yours.

“What’s the matter?” He’d asked, his hushed, now-sultry voice making your need for him that much more heightened.

You thought a moment before you answered.

With all of your feelings for him finally becoming realized in your own mind, there was just so much you felt you needed to say. So much you needed him to know.

As you’d stared in his sparkling eyes, pupils pure black from the weed and his need for you, the only word your mind could conjure up was love. Over and over again. Not just the word, but the feeling; the new desire for him that went far beyond the purely physical one that you’d tried so hard to convince yourself of.

But it wasn’t new; it had been clear all along. You’d just shoved it down to the deepest trenches of your mind, only to be discovered by the most skilled explorer.

There was so much you had wanted to say, but you just couldn’t conjure the proper words.

You decided your body could do all the talking. It could say more than your voice ever could.

“Nothing,” you’d whispered against his lips as you pulled him in for the deepest kiss you were certain the two of you had ever shared with one another.

You gasped as you looked up at him. The night you’d conceived—.

“Y/n, sweet girl,” Jake’s smoky voice brought your attention back to the situation. You let your body melt into his even more, needing him near.

The reality of it all suddenly began to set in when his hands, slow and steady in their pace, moved up your waist. Strong hands now moving under your shirt, set in their direction of ascension. They came to a steady stop just beneath the curve of your tender breasts.

“You know,” he breathed, breath washing over your lips. You blinked up at him, at his mercy. “I wanna do so much more than just hold your pretty tits,” he whispered, his lips brushing ever so lightly against yours. “How do they feel?”

“H-heavy,” you stuttered, shivering against his touch while his thumbs met at your sternum, tracing delicate patterns.

His palms suddenly dropped from beneath your shirt. You sucked in a breath, whining as your breasts pushed out for more. Your skin begged for his touch, on fire for him.

Before long, though, his hands came back to their spot over the fabric of the t-shirt this time.

And, over your shirt, he cupped as much of your chest as he could, keeping you in his hold as he gently massaged.

Stars. You saw so many stars.

“But, not—not as sore tonight,” you sighed, settling into his grasp. There were no worries evident to you right now.

All that mattered was Jake and his searing hot touch.

You felt him smile as close as he was, his lips almost connecting with yours as you fought back every desire to kiss him. “Yeah?” He whispered again, raspier, while his thumbs lightly grazed your hardened nipples through your shirt, your breath catching in your throat. “What do you need right now, baby?”

The moan that escaped your lips should have been embarrassing. But it wasn’t. Not at all. It fit quite well with the way his fingers continued in their path over your nipples, circling them. He was stealing every bit of air left in your lungs, making your eyes roll back in your head.

“Tell me, baby,” he growled, lips touching yours with each word.

Closing your eyes and biting your bottom lip, you answered silently. You, Jake. I fucking need you.

He returned to his grip underneath your breasts, over the shirt still, cradling them so well. . . Your body just fit with his. The touch of his hands cured even the most uncomfortable changes in your body.

You whined, not able to help the effect he was having on you and your aching body. “Jake, I need–.” Fuck.

No. This was wrong. He was drunk. Odds were, he wouldn’t remember this. You were the one letting it happen, letting it get much further than it should have.

“Tell me, y/n,” he repeated, brushing his thumbs once again over your taut nipples with more intent this time as your body began to tremble. “Tell me what I can do for you–.”

“I’m hungry,” you muttered out of nowhere, shaking your head as you effectively interrupted him. You pulled away, getting yourself out of another situation that could turn sticky real fast. (Yes, pun intended.)

And you really were very hungry. Hadn’t eaten for hours. So, it was the perfect mood killer.

“O-oh, yeah,” he breathily spoke, eyebrows dipping in just a bit as he dropped his stare. His long hair waved out around his shoulders when he shook his head. The sound of inebriated haziness was evident in his tone still, but you could tell he was quickly coming back to himself.

And that also terrified you. The moment just now. . . Had that brought him back? You’d seen his eyes brighten when you’d leaned into him.

He went to move past you, his body nearly meeting yours. You put out a hand, millimeters away from his heaving chest. But you couldn’t touch him yet. Not yet. Had to clear your mind.

“Want me to make something for you?” He wondered, sounding ready to help even amidst his tipsy state.

“I can do it,” you assured him with a small sigh and grin. “I’m capable.”

“You sure?”

“More than.”

Your eyes held one another’s for a heavy minute. He was trying to make sure you were being honest, you could tell.

You just encouraged him to believe your statement with a little pat to his warm, bare chest. Shit.

You had to go. Get out of the room. Make some damn food.

But he was right there. . .

No.

You quickly took your hand away before he could do something like hold it there. He didn’t get the chance, thanks to your reflexes.

Your hands interlocked under your belly as you peeked up at him through your lashes. “I promise. I do things for myself all the time. Please let me.”

“You don’t have to ask for–,” hiccup, the sobriety still not fully present. He held a fist over his mouth, trying to be polite. Your smile met your eyes, so gone for him. . . “For my permission, y/n. Seriously. I just want to help you however I–,” hiccup, his eyes bugged a little. The giggle that came from you couldn’t be stopped. “ I can. Jesus.”

“Go to sleep,” you tried, wracking your brain for the best possible plan for him to feel better. “I’ll be okay.”

“Nah. Not yet. Wanna take a shower first,” he iterated, eyebrows drawn together with the sureness of his plan. “It’ll help.”

“Okay,” you smiled, inhaling a breath before shaking your head and moving to open his door.

Rather than letting you get it, he raised his arm above your head, holding the door to do the job himself. You watched as he opened it wider, seeing his bicep flex with the action above your head. He’d opened it just enough for you to exit.

You connected eyes with his, looking at him over your shoulder.

The grin that lifted your features occurred on its own. Everything he did was making you swoon. The fucker.

He snickered a bit at you, his teeth coming to show past his pretty lips. Dimples fully present with his knowing smile. “Go eat,” he motioned with his other hand before stepping towards you, planning to exit behind you. “My baby momma needs sustenance.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

About forty-five minutes passed.

You’d eaten an entire box of macaroni and cheese. The noodles and yellow-y, plastic cheese weren’t making you want to gag anymore. Thank god, because it really was quite delicious.

Now, to wash your dishes and go to bed.

You’d just heard the shower shut off about ten minutes prior to the moment you heard footsteps approach in the doorway to the kitchen.

Jake.

“Will you come sleep with me?”

You spun to give him a questioning look from over your shoulder that held a million questions.

“Wh-what?” You stilled your task of washing the bowl you’d had your quick meal of macaroni and cheese in.

But, now, you weren’t thinking of mac and cheese. No, now you were thinking of what he just said.

When you’d looked over your shoulder at him, your eyes stuck naturally on the man standing at the doorway of the kitchen. The gesture that was meant to be quick, definitely turning into a whole-ass Jake Appreciation Fest.

Just like earlier that evening, there he was. Shocking every nerve in your system.

Pajama pants, slung low on his hips. . . his handsomely tanned and toned chest, still bare. His wet hair, laying on his pecs, dripping water onto each muscle. The drops of water made their way down his hard nipples, probably chilly from his shower, down his sculpted obliques and solid abdomen. . .

. . . And down, past the waistband of his plaid pajama pants. Your favorite ones.

The pursuit you took with your line of sight was unstoppable. You had to know if he was wearing them. . . And, to your complete gladness, you saw just enough of an outline of him as he leaned his weight on one foot. . . That was all it took to know. . .

“No, I’m not wearing underwear,” he smugly remarked.

His tone and words made your heart flutter and your cheeks become the deepest shade of crimson. Fuck. He’d caught you.

Deciding to ignore his little remark, you went back to washing the dish, still being held over the sink. In a much looser grip thanks to his comment. Gripping the dish tighter, you put all of your spinning nerves into washing it properly. You fumbled a little, but hoped he didn’t notice.

“What did you mean before? About sleeping together?” You tried, working to maintain enough attention on the dish that you wouldn’t drop it against the sink and break the thin Corelle.

“Just sleep,” he emphasized with a chuckle, sounding more and more like himself the longer he stood there. “Nothing more. Cross my heart.”

“Oh,” you offered lamely, heart thumping a hundred miles an hour in your chest, boobs suddenly aching for. . . Fuck.

Why was he asking you to simply sleep with him? What the hell?

God. . .

Should you? Was it a good idea? Well, no. You could answer that. It wasn’t a good idea. At all.

But. . . should you go lay with him? Maybe fall asleep in his arms. . . Would it help you sleep easier after your short, uneasy rest from earlier in the evening?

Shit.

You knew the answer. Knew the answer very well. Even before EMDR, when the bad dreams would occur, they were always better – tamed, happy, or gone completely – when you slept in the same bed as Jake.

“Yeah,” you said, not taking any more time to contemplate. “I will.”

“Alright,” he replied, sounding relieved behind you. Why did he sound so happy? Surely it wasn’t that big of a deal to him. He still had alcohol in his system. That explained it.

You rinsed the rest of the bubbles from the bowl when you heard him speak up again.

“Want me to wash it?”

“N-no,” you stuttered nervously and shook your head, focusing on the sudsy dish. “I’ve got it.”

“Okay. You full? Get enough to eat?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he answered, the smile evident in his tone. “Don’t take too long.”

“I won’t,” you reassured, willing your pulse to return to normal.

And, seconds later, you were hearing his footfalls against the carpet as he made his way back to his room.

Well.

Finishing the job of the bowl, – taking much longer than needed – you contemplated.

You guessed his tone was still a little wavy, but you knew better than to think he was still drunk.

He definitely wasn’t.

Had the shower helped that much? Had it been the moment in his room? Both combined?

After the equally clean saucepan was put away in the drawer below the oven, you dragged your feet a bit more as you went to check on Stevie and put some more food in her dish. When her tail swished across your calves, you felt a bit of calmness return to you.

Your heart was still thrumming in your chest. But you were able to slow your thoughts down enough to feel more at peace as you took notice of yourself in your full-body mirror.

Damn. . .oooo-kay, y/n. . .

Why did you suddenly feel completely confident in your body? You turned, getting every angle.

It just felt so great to not doubt your appearance. It was just like last Monday. You could get used to this feeling.

Your boobs looked fantastic and big under your gray t-shirt, nipples peaked as they most-often were these days. Your ass looked perfectly rounded out from the way it peeked out of your soft shirt. . . And, lifting your t-shirt, you looked at the little bump of your tummy.

The best addition to the entire look. Your grin was natural as you admired your baby. . .

Your tummy was growing steadily as you still sat on the bigger side of pregnant bellies. Your bump wasn’t a little subtle thing. No, it was an obviously pregnant belly.

Small, but definitely still noticeable. And it was just cute as hell.

After rubbing a gentle hand over the expanse of skin on your belly, you pulled your shirt back down over it.

And with a final fluff of your hair, you grabbed your Stanley from the nightstand before making your way to where you’d find sleep tonight.

You were just going to get good rest for your baby. It was for the baby.

That was what you worked to convince yourself of as you walked with quiet purpose to his bedroom.

-🌼🌼🌼-

“Why did you come home?”

You were laying in his bed. Just like old times.

Except, in the past, where you would’ve most likely been naked, you were not tonight.

Everything else though? Same as always.

Your legs were tied into his, looped around his just right, playing footsie with him beneath the covers. Your head rested on his bare chest, your hand underneath your cheek as it laid so perfectly well on his exquisitely strapped pecs.

Oh, also. . . One more thing different than before: the bump. The baby, tucked snugly against his side where you were turned into him.

It was heaven. That was what it was.

A yawn emitted from deep in his chest. You knew sleep was finding him faster than you would’ve liked. Naturally, a little yawn found you as well.

Sighing heavily to follow the yawn, you felt his hand that laid above you come to comb through the strands of your hair. “I don’t like being away from you.”

Your heartbeat was heavy in your ears – did your best to ignore it.

“Was Maya mad?”

“Yeah.”

“Jake,” you scolded, for no reason. You didn’t give two shits about how she felt. But. . . you did care about his happiness – didn’t want to ruin his relationship when it made him feel happy and whole.

“She’ll get over it,” he reassured with another yawn that lifted your cheek with his rising chest. “She was drunker than I was.”

“Are you still drunk?” You pondered aloud with a yawn and a giggle, naturally emitting in his presence.

But. . . you knew better. Didn’t even have to ask. It just made all of this more understandable if he were to still be drunk. It made this easier to submit to.

You didn’t know why the prospect of simply laying beside him was harder to come to terms with than having his dick in your mouth. Just like it’d been a week ago.

Your cheeks heated at the thought. Of its own volition, your thigh came to momentarily graze past his crotch.

“Not really,” he answered, sounding a touch offended that you’d even asked. “Pretty sober now, honestly.”

The more coherent he sounded, the more intimidated you became. . .

Best to let him find sleep. You’d answer to this in the morning. . . For now, your eyelids were getting heavier and heavier by the moment.

“I believe you,” you settled with a contented yawn of your own, nestling into his chest. Couldn’t help it. Had to be closer.

You blinked, slower and slower. So sleepy — just felt so right in his arms. His hand came to hold the base of your skull as a thumb traced your head so lightly.

Goosebumps rose on your skin from his precious gesture. . . It felt so damn incredible.

“You should,” he iterated, his lips coming to meet the crown of your head, giving you a feather-light kiss.

And, within a minute, he was lightly snoring.

It took almost no time at all for you to follow him to slumber.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Just like you would’ve guessed, the bad dreams didn’t come that night.

. . .Because Jake made everything better. That was just it.

-🌼🌼🌼-

December 16, 2022

As you sat in the waiting room, you surveyed him and noticed he wasn’t wearing the Medusa medallion. The newer one you’d noticed on Monday.

“No Medusa?” You questioned, at a decent enough volume to not disturb the few other mothers and fathers in the waiting room. He flicked his amber-brown gaze over to you, caught in a trance by the beautiful, light decor of the clinic.

Once he looked at you, his eyebrows only dipped at your words, not understanding. You motioned to his neck with a slight flick of your wrist. “Your Medusa medallion. I noticed it the other night.”

He snorted, lips quirking in a small grin with a shake of his head. “That was a stupid gift I got from Maya’s little sister,” he explained, scratching the back of his head.

“Jake,” you disciplined his words, but you couldn’t help the tiny giggle that slipped past your lips. It was kind of funny that he found it stupid.

“What?!” He turned to you, a full smile on his face. You raised a faux disappointed brow at him and he contended that with his next remark, “Okay, yes, I know I shouldn’t call it stupid. Maya said it’s because of her sister’s little crush on me. . . But it was kind of funny that she showed up with it at her birthday party, for one,” he explained, crossing his legs at the knee. “And for two, Medusa? A Greek goddess? Since when is that my primary interest?”

You shrugged at that, a small smile stuck to your features. He was adorable.

He continued on, “For some reason, Maya struggles to differentiate between pirates and mythology. . . and no matter how many times I explain they’re different, she doesn’t catch on to it.”

He shook his head, tousling a hand through his long, wavy hair as he placed the other hand on his knee. His rings weren’t present today, so you got to truly appreciate the curvatures of his tanned, masculine hands.

“You should still acknowledge that Maya’s sister’s–what’s her name?”

“Kaia. K-a-i-a. . . Different from Maya’s by two letters. Sound the same, though,” he snickered.

Kaia and Maya. . . so they’re a rhyming name family. For some reason, the thought made you snort a laugh, a grin claiming your lips.

“I know,” Jake said, a little humorous in his own tone. “Kaia and Maya. Can we agree to not name our kids rhyming names?”

Our kids? As in, more than the one in your belly?

You took note of him and his reaction to his mistake, watched the way his eyes continued scanning the walls of the white and blush waiting room.

He seemed to not notice his mess up, still going about his business as usual. His foot tapped against the bamboo flooring to the beat of the classic rock radio station playing.

You decided to ignore his words. It had been a slip up. Just like your own slip up in the car the other day.

You, speaking of love.

Jake, mentioning multiple kids.

You both were just in a state of stress with the life change. . . it wasn’t anything. Just a couple mis-worded moments.

You continued on, looking down at your belly briefly, smoothing your hands down your sweater to flatten any weird lines. “. . .Kaia’s sentiment was kind. Her little crush is sweet,” you iterated, sounding more like a mom everyday. “I hope you told her thank you.”

He chuckled, raspy and light, at you. Switching your line of sight up to him, you saw his eyes read a sense of fondness as he cast his gaze on you.

“I did,” he smirked, winking at you. Your tummy fluttered with butterflies. “You are going to be a fantastic mom, y/n. I’ve known it for a long time and I know it more and more with your little coaching moments.”

Your heart went crazy at the thought of him imagining you as a fantastic mother. And he’d known it for a long time? How long? What did that mean?

“Thanks, Jake,” you blushed a light pink, matching the colors of the crepe walls. There was one more thing you wanted to say though.

“However,” you cleared your throat, glancing at him momentarily from the corner of your eye. He was heeding you, brow arched as he waited for your next words.

“I can’t say anything to excuse Maya’s non-acknowledgment at the obvious contrasts of pirates and mythology. They are two completely different beasts,” you emphasized, turning your full attention to him. He was still watching you. The flush was back in your cheeks. “I’ve seen enough of your documentaries about pirates and I’m an English major, for God’s sake. . . so I know these things.”

The way his features brightened was precious – like he was being seen.

And he was seen. He would always be seen if you had anything to say about it.

Also, you did know the difference, you weren’t lying. None of what you said was a lie. You’d said what you did because you needed him to know that you understood. His interests mattered to you and they should to Maya as well. They should matter to her more-so.

The moment was cut off quite quickly, though, as you were hearing your name being called to the back for your appointment.

You were about to see your baby again. With Jake. And you’d know by the end of the hour if it was a boy or girl. . .

The blood was pumping in your ears as Jake fell in step beside you on the way to the back. You smiled up at him, where you were met with his sparkling eyes. Both of you were obviously giddy with eagerness and excitement.

Your thoughts were filled with everything that was to come. All sunshine and pale colors – so much love.

Here we go. . .

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: ...i wonder if you can guess the name/gender after this chapter part... ;) see you soon (next part is almost finished, my loves) :) feel free to always come to my ask box or message box! i'm always down to talk when my adhd/anxiety doesn't attack me <3

ty for being the best readers in the world and pleaseee never hesitate to send in your wonderful thoughts! love youuuu <3

& as usual, it wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all. :( so please check to see that you’re down there because if you’ve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldn’t let me do it for everyone 🙃 ugh. and if i somehow forgot to tag someone, please also let me know that! (i'm a NOOB and i have terrible memory)

Fill this form out if you'd like to join my taglist! <3

Taglist:

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#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake fic #my fics #covet #chapter 11 might be a top three fav chapter for me...#part 3 is when some shit goes downnn #ruh roh #hehe

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kteezy997 · 1 day

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The Heart of a Bene Gesserit-Part Three//Paul Atreides

Warnings: cursing, spice slavery, prostitution innuendo

You didn't really want to see Paul. You still felt so raw after last night. It wasn't even his fault; it was your feelings that got hurt when you realized that you'd never have a real chance with Paul. He’d never see you in a romantic light.

Once you got ready for the day, you decided to go out for a walk around the grounds, to clear your head and get some air. You didn’t opt for a still suit, as you didn’t plan on traveling far or long.

The morning was warm and bright, but not uncomfortably so, as it was still early in the day. The sun was not yet too high. You had made your way around to the spice silo crates where some workers were emptying the crops. You watched the grouping of men, and something caught your eye. The closer you looked, you noticed that it was a bald head. Harkonnen.

It had to be a Harkonnen. No one on Arrakis had such pale, smooth skin like that. You saw the man's eyes and you knew exactly who it was. A near final Kwizatz Haderach: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. Why was he a slave working for Paul?

"Miss," a servant approached you, and you turned to them.

"Yes?"

"You really should not be out in the sun this time of day."

You looked over at the silos, nodding toward the working men, "It is still early. And besides, the slaves are out here."

"As a special companion of the Emperor, he would wish that you'd stay safely indoors." the servant pointed out, trying to urge you back into the House.

"I think the Emperor should put his worries elsewhere."

"Very well, ma'am. But if you wish to stay out longer, I'd recommend changing into a stillsuit, to keep your body cool and hydrated." the servant gave you a polite nod, then left.

You looked on, remembering your singular visit to Giedi Prime years ago, seeing Feyd-Rautha dominate his opponents in the Harkonnen Arena. The Bene Gesserit found him to be quite impressive, not only in his strength and fighting skills, but also in his superior intelligence. Feyd was almost everything that Paul was. A very valuable and useful tool in human form. Why was he now reduced to a simple slave?

......

After the midday meal, you approached a rather tired looking Paul. You said his name as you walked up to him. You needed to ask him about Feyd. Paul looked at you, and his tired eyes faded into a brighter expression that lit up his handsome face. You tried to not think too much about the effect you had had on him. You felt no need to read into it.

"I want to ask you about one of the slave workers you have in your possession, my lord." you said.

Paul frowned at you, as if he could never guess the things you were about to say, "Very well. Let us retire to the council room to talk about this.”

He led the way to the meeting room in which you had spent some time with him and his men, listening to them invent work for themselves. Really, you thought he needed more women on his council, to actually help resolve issues of the Imperium.

"Sit down, y/n. What would you like to know about the slaves?" he asked, sitting down and gesturing for you to do the same next to him at the table.

"Well, I became intrigued by one of them in particular. And I'm not going to play around about this, Paul. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen is alive and he is among your slaves, isn't he?"

Paul sat back in his seat, a strange quiver of a smile on his mouth, "Nothing gets passed you Bene Gesserit, does it?"

You gave him a serious look.

He let out a small sigh, "Yes, Feyd-Rautha is where any lasting Harkonnen should be."

"He had nothing to do with what happened to your father."

"But he is a Harkonnen! He deserves to be where he is. He's lucky he's not dead and buried in the sand with the Baron."

You scoffed, "Feyd is a psychopath, that is true. But he is far too valuable a human being to just be your slave."

“He is not just my slave. He works for the Empire, you yourself expressed that you only want what is best for the Empire.”

“Yes, but Feyd deserves a more honorable position. He’s an intelligent man, a good leader. He was able to bring spice production back to full capacity after his idiot brother fumbled the job. You could use someone like Feyd-Rautha in your corner. Hell, he should be on your council, advising you, helping you.”

“I would never take advice from a man whose family had my father killed! He would have never attained control of Arrakis if it weren’t for me.” Paul shouted, his voice littered with an angry growl.

You sat still in your chair, gripping the armrest, you knew he was right. Rabban could not stand up to Muad’Dib and the Fremen, nonetheless, this issue was not about Rabban, but his younger brother. “Someone of Feyd-Rautha’s superior breeding deserves to have a more productive job.”

“Are you suggesting spice production is unimportant? It is only the most vital substance in the universe, without it, you wouldn’t have been able to come to Arrakis, y/n.”

You shook your head, becoming aggravated with him and his condescending tone, “Do not patronize me, Paul Atreides. You know what I mean. You should use Feyd-Rautha to your advantage, that is all I am saying. Think about it.”

“Perhaps you would like to use him to your advantage.”

Now you were mad, “Whatever do you mean?”

“You were sent here to secure the Kwizatz Haderach bloodline. But you’ve been unsuccessful thus far, so why not try out a runner up: my cousin, the final Harkonnen.”

You sighed, your anger subsided and you were left with the disappointment that he still had no trust in you. “That is not my intention. You should know by now that I am here for you, I am trying to fulfill my duties as your councilwoman.”

Paul raised his brows, rested his elbow on the armrest of his chair, held his chin in palm and looked at you in the eyes, “Oh? So you’ve decided to take my job offer? You’ll stay here, on Arrakis?”

“I hope to. As long as you stop being an ass.” You stood up, pushed your chair back under the table. “Good day, my lord.” you said, turning on your feet and exiting the council room, without bowing before the Emperor.

…….

Paul sat for a moment more after y/n left, then he called a servant to retrieve Gurney Halleck.

“Gurney.” he greeted his old master, who now served as one of his right hand men.

“My lord.” Gurney answered, nodding.

“Appoint one of the servants to keep a close watch on y/n. I’d like to know what she is doing, and whom she may be speaking to.”

……

That evening, after dinner was over and the sun was set, you quietly made your way to the slave quarters. You were met with the slave master, who looked you up and down, like he couldn’t place you.

“Haven’t seen you down in these parts, woman.” he said, holding his strong stance.

“My name is y/n, friend and councilwoman of Muad’Dib. I’ve come to ask if I can speak with one of the slaves here.” you kept your poise and confidence in check. I must not fear.

The tall man before you gave a simple nod, “Hmm. Do you know the slave’s name?”

“Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.”

You were then led to a sort of outside recreational area for the prisoners. There were tables and chairs under a roof to provide some shade.

“Wait here. And don’t worry, he’ll like the looks you. He won’t have any desire to kill you.” the slave master said, giving you a small dose of assurance.

But you were Bene Gesserit, you did not need to be assured. You could take care of yourself. It did not matter how intimidating or dangerous an opponent may be, you could always come out on top with the proper training.

After only a couple of minutes, you heard his voice first: hoarse in his throat, but with chilling low tones. “A visitor, for little ol’ me?”

You looked straight ahead, seeing his tall, muscular figure making its way toward you. He was just as you remembered, his face and head free of hair, but still as strikingly handsome as his Atreides cousin.

“Well, you are beautiful. You’d be a nice gift, but there’s no way you are a working woman. Also, no sign of the Ibad blue eyes, so you’re not the Atreides’ Fremen woman.” Feyd was speaking as he looked you over, getting his senses about you.

You felt a slight thorn in your side as he insinuated that you could be Chani.

He then looked in your eyes, squinting, “You’re Bene Gesserit?”

“You are sharp, Feyd-Rautha.” you replied.

He smirked, but did not show his black teeth. He gazed at you as if he wanted to devour you, then and there. “Hm. Now, why were you looking for me, my darling?"

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothée imagine #timothee fanfic #paul muad'dib #dune part 2 #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides imagine #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd x reader

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marigold-hills · 13 hours

Text

june 3: library | @wolfstarmicrofic | word count: 599 PREVIOUS PART • FIRST PART

They’ve used the map for a very many purposes, some nefarious, some less so, but never usually like this: to stalk one of their own.

Not stalk, Sirius reasons, with himself, because such distinctions are important. Search for. Keep track of. In a friendly, concerned manner.

Because it’s 2am, and Remus isn’t in bed, and he came out of the Potions exam looking pale and a bit defeated in his Moony way: withdrawn, shoulders narrowed, crease between eyebrows. And so, so tired.

Sirius finds the tiny set of footprints with Remus Lupin attached to them in a corner of the library. Not surprising, to find their Moony there, but the library closed at the reasonable hour of 7pm and as much as Remus was being a bit obsessive over studying, he didn’t usually go as far as breaking and entering.

So Sirius is concerned. Sue him.

James and Peter both fast asleep (and how could they be, when one of their own was missing!), Sirius pilfers the Cloak and makes his way through the castle.

The library smells like a part of Remus, an integral inch of him – books and parchment and ink, dust with magic interwoven into its particles. Moonlight falls through the tall windows, the only light, except…

There, in the alcove Remus favours, a single lit oil lamp casts a soft orange glow. Remus is always the comfort of autumn but doubly so now, lit up like this, his curls golden and the light touching him like rays of a sunset and Sirius feels it, this want, this urge he can’t name that makes him want to bite or to tattoo stages of the moon against his sternum. Remus deserves good things only – care and gentle affection – and Sirius fears this thing that sometimes overcomes him, how it wants to break Remus just to hide inside of his marrow.

Remus must hear his footsteps because he turns towards Sirius, profile in a sharp contrast of shadows and light, and Sirius thinks oh, thinks I don’t understand.

“What are you doing here, Pads?”

“How did you know it was me?” Sirius wanders, removing the Cloak.

“I’d recognise your smell anywhere.”

“I smell?”

“No, you dumb thing,” exasperation and fondness, “comes with the territory. My little secret, of the furry variety. Remember?”

Right, if course. The moon is looming, soon to be full. It accounts for some of the renewed darkness underneath Remus’ eyes. Sirius hasn’t seen the full moon with his human eyes in a long time, but he remembers it was beautiful. He remembers the shadows on its face, craters left over by something ancient and savage, and his Moony – their, their Moony – is like that too, shadows on brightness and scars as memories of pain.

“Why aren’t you in bed, Moons?”

A shrug, a nonchalance. “Fell asleep revising. Figured I might as well keep going instead of trying to cross the castle back without any of our helping aides.”

Sirius reaches out. It’s not unusual. He’s. Touchy friend. But he presses the pads of his fingers into the divot underneath Remus’ left eye, soft and slow, and it’s not like any touch he remembers ever giving.

“You need to take care of yourself,” he says, or maybe he doesn’t because the words are a swallow and a stone and they don’t cross the distance between their eyes, locked onto each other.

(Sirius thinks there’s something here I should pay attention to. Important. Open your eyes.)

“Guess you can be right sometimes after all, Pads. Come on then, take me to bed.”

(And he thinks: oh.)

NOTES:

this is part tree of a 30-part series of shorts: I’m aiming for them all to be readable as standalone but are a part of a bigger story (better read together and in order, in my opinion) if it doesn’t make much sense by itself do let me know, I want to give this a good go :)

i wish we saw more of the library in the movies. I mean, a magical library? Amazing.

@bowielover420 @tealeavesandtrash @digital-kam @moon-girl88

(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged in next parts)

#remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar #dead gay wizards #fanfic #marauders #marauders era #wolfstar microfic

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claiestve · 7 hours

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ꨄ Isaac

˜”* ❝𝙄'𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 '𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡?❞

⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2 ᴏꜰ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇᴀʀᴅ

⎯୨⎯ " " ⎯୧⎯

You weren’t sure about this. You knew it would look kind of crazy but he wanted to see you again too, right? There you were, standing at Isaac’s front door. It’s not too crazy, right? You used to live here. Of course, you’d know the address.

Nonetheless, you knocked on the door. You wanted to see him again. That day both of you caught up was… it was a lot but you didn’t have time to stay and were already emotional. It was a whole mess.

“Hello? — Oh! Pickle?”

“Ah, I’m sorry. I know this is unexpected and I know you get anxious answering the door but I thought I’d see you again because I missed you and I hope you missed me…”

His shock was evident through the stare he gave you. He planned to see you again first, but here you were.

“Oh my,” You started to panic from his silence, “I’m sorry, I should’ve known better. I should’ve reached out before this–”

“It’s okay, Pickle. Come in.”

You walked through the door, hearing it close behind you. It felt weird to be back in this house. Though, it felt like home.

“So,” He guided you to the couch as if you didn’t know where it was, “What brings you here?”

“You.”

What.

“Like wanting to be with you…”

What the fuck are you saying?

“Like … okay it sounds a bit crazy–”

It does, yes.

“Don’t worry. I missed you too, Pickle. The house has been empty without your… clumsiness and prying.” He teased.

If you didn’t feel embarrassed before, you do now. Not that that was Isaac’s intention. Never. You should’ve known that coming to his house and stumbling over your words would result in him winding you up.

“So… that’s it. I’ll take my leave now–”

“You can stay.”

Isaac’s eager tone stopped you from getting up. As much as you wanted to get out of there and leave because of how awkward this felt, you couldn’t. Not when he sounded like that.

You knew that he knew what he was doing. Like you had your little tricks, so did he. Using just the tone of his voice to make you stay—the sound of slight fear in his voice paired with excitement. He knew it would work on you, as it has before. And anyway, you couldn’t complain when you’d pull the exact stunts on him before.

“You can stay with me. Don’t you want to? That’s why you came here, right, Pickle?”

“Ugh,” You pouted, “You know me too well. Is that okay though? Me staying?”

“It would be a pleasure. Want me to make you some tea?” Isaac stood up and smiled.

He was clearly excited about you staying (and his stupid mind game working on you).

“Well since you seem so eager, yes. Just because I don’t want to bring your mood down..”

He laughed from the kitchen,

“I missed you, Pickle! Don’t act like you don’t know that.”

“I missed you too.”

But that one was kept to yourself. You knew he couldn’t hear that, you just wished the message got to him either way.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

here u gooo a happy ending cuz im not THAT mean. i can quit angst for a lil while out of the kindness of my heart

this was a bit later than i intended n im soso sorry, ive been so much in my head n everytime i tried to finish this, my mind went blank BUT !, its here now

#zsakuva #asmr #sakuverse #zsakuvaxreader #isaac #isaac rhoades #u can def see where i got stuck #helpzkddk #sigh i gotta stop this #happy pride month by the way #for the gay people i love yall #ummmm okayyy thank u for reading ily

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why-are-you-still-awake · 2 days

Text

Naruto boys react to your death

A/n: I’m feeling sad right now, because of Boruto Two Blue Vortex chapter 10. Iykyk.

Warning(s): Talk of death, grief, general angst. Did I miss anything? Characters: Naruto, Sasuke, Neji

Naruto Uzumaki

★ He found out after he got back from a mission in the land of waves, the atmosphere of the village was almost suffocating. When he heard what happened to you he felt like he couldn’t breathe, just like when Jiraiya died. ★

★ Naruto completely isolated himself from everyone, he could barely keep himself together. He didn’t feel like even his friends could help his grief. Everything felt so different without you around, his apartment was so quiet. ★

★ Everything remind him of you, he felt completely lost and alone, like nothing could quell the intense feelings he felt. He truly didn’t know what to do without you…★

Sasuke Uchiha

★ You had gone on a mission, you promised him you’d be back in a week tops but that didn’t happen, it and been a month by the time the news of your death got back to Konoha. At first, he wanted to deny it, you promised, you couldn’t be dead? Right…..? ★

★ Once the reality of the situation hit, he realized his worst fear as come true. The only person he truly loved and had left was gone and he was alone….again. Unlike Naruto his grief was hidden under the surface and he kept his stoic demeanor until one day he just cracked and broke down. He felt the same way he did when his family was murdered…★

★ There was a lot of guilt associated with your passing, he started to overthink everything about what went wrong, maybe you would’ve still been here if he had gone instead or even accompanied you. He went through every possible scenario and the guilt was eating him from the inside out. He wished he could’ve been there….. ★

Neji Hyuga

★ It was supposed to be him…not you. During the war when he stepped in front of the ten tails spears he braced himself to die and he accepted it, but when the feeling never came he turned and saw your back to him, you sacrificed yourself for him…. ★

★ Neji didn’t understand, why did this happen? It wasn’t supposed to happen this way! He watch as you collapsed to the ground, he was almost in disbelief with what happened. When he broke out of tunnel vision he ran over to you only to see you were already gone. ★

★ When ninja medics finally arrived, he didn’t want to let go of your body, his generally cool and stoic nature had been shattered and all he could do was whisper how much he loved you to your body. ★

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading, I truly do appreciate it <3

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dark-elf-writes · 2 days

Note

Izuku as a child of Apollo just having a million big brothers/sisters and most are heroes is hilarious. None of fhem are letting their baby brother be bullied. Nope.

Oh god, Snipe, Hawks and Hizashi would be the most protective siblings and if you went ‘bad Inko’ i can juat imagine that custody battle. Hizashi ‘married to high school sweetheart’, Hawks ‘commission agent’ and Snipe ‘has a gun and no issue threatning people’. It would be hilarious.

The children of Apollo normally got along.

Okay well that wasn’t exactly true, but very rarely did they try to shoot at each other or scream the other’s eardrums out which put them head and shoulders over some demigod half-siblings. They weren’t Ares kids after all, they could keep it together.

Or they could, until their newest sibling came along.

Izuku Midoriya was an anomaly, a rare inheritor of their father’s knowledge aspect though just hearing them talk Hizashi swore up and down there was some music talent in there somewhere, and the kid always seemed to know exactly where villain or monster attacks would happen like they could see them coming… even if they took that knowledge and used it to run towards the fights rather than away. They didn’t have the usual look of an Apollo kid (Hizashi was the only one of them that had drawn that card) but it was nearly impossible to miss if someone knew what to look for, and the three heroes definitely knew what to look for.

But Izuku different from a typical Apollo kid or not wasn’t the problem. No the problem was that none of them could agree on what to do with them.

“I’m married!” Hizashi hissed, careful to keep their voice at a normal volume. The last time they had let their quirk slip against one of their brothers they had been dodging feathers for a week and they had no desire to repeat the experience. “And I’m a teacher! I have the best claim to a stable home life as any of us.”

Keigo narrowed his eyes, a feather twisting around his fingers as his annoyance grew. “I’m the Number Three Hero! If any one of us could take care of a kid it’s me!”

Snipe (why their brother had decided he preferred his hero name even in the off hours Hizashi would never understand, but they would honor his wishes) toyed with his gun. The fact that the barrel was pointed away from Hizashi at the moment did nothing to comfort them. It didn’t really matter where he pointed the damn things when dear old dad gave him the ability to curve his bullets.

(Hizashi would be more jealous that both of them got some sort of telekinesis while Hizashi could only be considered slightly above average when it came to anything involving projectiles but really they thought Voice was the coolest.)

“I am the only sane one between us.” Debatable, but again Hizashi wasn’t very interested in catching a bullet even if their brother had swapped them out for nonlethal rounds. They had seen the damage he could do with nerf bullets and the rounds he had were a far cry from those. “And I’m also a teacher. So don’t give me that look Zashi.”

They smoothed their face, cursing themself for letting their annoyance show. Normally they were better than this but their brothers knew just how to get under their skin.

“Um,” All three of them jolted having forgotten their sibling was still there watching them with those wide green eyes so full of wonder. “You don’t have to fight over me. I’m fine. Really.”

They weren’t. The kid’s sleeves weren’t nearly long enough to hide the bruises and fresh burns on their arms and Hizashi was pretty sure they had seen the kid limping before they had finished the fight. As much as they wanted to be picking a fight with their brothers right now… healing first.

And Hizashi was the best healer.

(Ha!)

“You’re not fine, listener,” Their voice went gentle, low, the soothing rumble under it already encouraging healing raven as they knelt beside Izuku. “Our brothers are just being stupid. It’s pretty common experience.”

“Hey!”

“Zashi!”

They smiled, bright. Blinding to anyone who didn’t also have sunlight in their blood. “C’mon. We can head back to my place and get you patched up. Any other… arrangements can be made after you’re healed.”

“I’m coming too!”

“And me!”

Shouta was going to kill them… but at least Hizashi could shove their brothers at him first for canon fodder.

Izuku looked like they might argue but…

“Ours,” they said. “You said they are our brothers.”

Hizashi ran careful fingers over the kid’s cheek. “Ours. We Apollo kids have to stick together after all… even if some of us are annoying.”

“Coming from Queen annoying that says a lot,” Hawks mumbled. Hizashi made a mental note to curse him into speaking in lyrics later. They were pretty sure he had a meeting coming up where that would be particularly annoying.

Izuku looked between the three of them, eyes burning like the noonday sun as they hunted for something in their expressions. But eventually they smiled. “I’ve always wanted big siblings.”

Shit, Hizashi thought. They were going to end up with the most complicated three way custody agreement they just knew it.

#the elf talks #mha #bnha #pjo #meanwhile Apollo is cooing over how cute his kids all are

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mcuamerica · 11 hours

Text

The Shadowsinger: Twenty-Two

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. Healing wounds, ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: You heal with Azriel by your side after the Blood Rite.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

Series Masterlist

Seventeen - Eighteen - Nineteen - Twenty - Twenty-One

She’s your mate.

It was the only consistent thing that flowed through Azriel’s mind the entire week. It snapped the moment you were winnowed away for the Rite. They never do it the same week of the year, never start it on the same day. And he felt it, saw a glimmer of gold in your eyes just for a moment before you were gone.

It took everything in him to not disturb the Rite. Rhys practically had to use his High Lord’s voice. He was waiting for his own mate to open up to him. But at least Feyre was safe. She wasn’t in the middle of the deadliest challenge for any Illyrian. Any Fae. Cassian, Rhys, and him barely survived it and they were the deadliest warriors alive.

But he knew you were alive. Even if the bond was buried because of the spells surrounding the Rite. He knew that if you died, he would feel it. Feel the emptiness. He kept his faith in you. Cassian and him trained you. Well. He tested you in the mountains. He watched you complete the qualifying course. Witnessed as you took down male after male in sparring challenges. You would be fine. He repeated the two things you promised him.

She will survive. She will reach the mountain.

He added a third thing, for himself.

She’s my mate.

It turned into a mantra in his head. To be able to sit and wait. And do absolutely nothing else.

Survive. Mountain. Mate.

Azriel stared down at your body as it twitched unconsciously from the wounds. So many broken bones. You wouldn’t fly for a month. If… if your wings weren’t broken beyond repair. His shadows told him the broken wings were recent. He could have sworn one of your tendons was cut. Just as the Rite came to an end. There were three males that were sneering with laughter at your state. They didn’t stay alive long when Rhys heard them. They were nothing but red dust two seconds later.

And then there was your brother, Varyn. He was about a finger’s length away from touching the monolith atop Ramiel. But he held back because he wouldn’t have made it because of you. And if you weren’t going to be crowned Carynthian, neither was he.

Azriel fell to his knees beside you, involuntary tears falling from his cheeks. He reached down, wanting to heal everything but not knowing where to start. His shadows swirled around your wounds, his Siphon patching up small cuts. He didn’t even tell or try to do any of it. You were unconscious. And he bet you wouldn’t be awake for a while. He prayed to the Mother that you would wake up at all.

Rhys kneeled on the other side of you. “We’ll take her to the town home.” He said. “Madja will take care of her. Az…”

Azriel told the rest of the Inner Circle the day after you were taken. He had been agitated and ready to go fight for his life. For your life. Be sentenced to death just to take you out of the wretched ritual.

“Az… she’s breathing. Her heart is beating. She will be okay.” Rhysand said, reached out to hold his brother’s shoulder, and took your hand as he winnowed to the town home.

You awoke to a blinding pain. In every single spot of your body. It was too much, too much to bear. Someone was patching your wounds. Magic was patching your wounds. You heard your mate’s voice, soothing you through it. That was the only thing you continued to hear as you fell unconscious again.

Azriel sat at your bedside for the entire week. Missing the visit with the queens where Rhys showed them Velaris. You only awoke to writhe in pain every now and then. Madja was doing everything she could to keep you sedated. Your wounds were healing but it was slower than normal. You were basically a human when they were inflicted, and the process of healing was different because of it. Not to mention the odd herbs that the three males drugged you with that were still in your system when the wounds were inflicted. Madja knew they were also slowing the healing down.

Azriel only left the town home to defend the city when it was attacked. And to go to Hybern to infiltrate it. Feyre was taken to the Spring Court. His High Lady. His brother’s mate. And his own mate couldn’t even open her eyes because of the pain she was in. Rhys brought in another bed just so Azriel could heal with you after Hybern tore his wings.

Each of the Inner Circle took turns watching the two of you, trying to get Azriel to get up to eat, or to rest. He needed to heal from Hybern’s destruction of his wings, but he wouldn’t leave your side.

Rhys even allowed Varyn to come visit when his wound healed within a few days. He only stayed long enough to learn that you were getting better. Then he returned to Valorworth for training.

Azriel didn’t leave the room once Feyre was gone… And when he was healed, Rhys needed him on missions. But, Az was too distracted with your healing to do any real work, so his shadows took his place.

Another thing that Azriel couldn’t wrap his head around. Your shadows were gone. There were none swirling around you, none comforting your wounds with their cool touch. He wondered if the spell from the Rite worked too well and kept them away. But his came back the second it ended. Were you no longer a Shadowsinger? Or did you no longer need the shadows to survive? Questions swirled in his brain, every second he sat by your side, waiting for you to wake up. Not in pain. Or long enough for him to hold you and declare you his mate. When the spell from the Rite ended at dawn, it became so strong he knew you felt it too. It was still buried, and wouldn’t take full effect until both of you accepted it, but it was there.

Feyre had been in the Spring Court for two weeks when you finally woke up.

Azriel was sleeping in what looked to be a very uncomfortable position while Cassian was sharpening a blade beside him. You jolted up at the sound of the blade against the sharpener, eyes wide. The last thing you remembered was the pure agony you were in. And then a terrible dream about Azriel’s wings shredding. Was that on top of Ramiel? Was it somewhere else? Was it even real?

Cassian hit Azriel’s arm, so hard that the former growled as he shifted. He was about to tell his brother off when he saw you were awake. And you looked terrified.

Azriel said your name once as he got up, moving closer to you. His wings were still scarred from healing. You must have not heard him because your eyes were glued to the blade that Cassian was holding. Cassian noticed your gaze and quickly put the blade into its sheath.

You flinched when you felt a hand on your shoulder, backing into the bed as much as you could. Until your eyes met the hazel ones you had been so deeply dreaming of. Your mate’s eyes. Azriel’s eyes.

“Azriel…” you whispered. The small, gentle smile on his face broke you. You let out a sob, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your head into his chest as you cried. You let out wail after wail, muttering everything that happened when you were in the Rite. The males you killed. Your brother. Your wounds. He could barely understand all of it, but his shadows translated for him. You sobbed into his chest until you had fallen back asleep. He had laid down beside you, holding you. He didn’t want you waking up again without knowing you were safe. In Velaris. With him.

Your wounds were mostly healed by that morning when you woke up. All but your leg and your wing. You were in no more physical pain. But you knew that the past four weeks of you sleeping would be the most you’d get in a while. You curled into Azriel’s side, breathing in his scent. It was enough to bring tears to your eyes again. You had been through so much, and yet all you wanted to do was lay with Azriel and give him a cookie. A biscuit. Anything so you could declare your love and your acceptance.

Azriel felt you shift, leaning his head down to look at you. There was no terror in your eyes this time. It was only what he knew to be love. “Hi sweetheart.” He whispered, moving some hair from your face. “How are you feeling?” He asked.

You moved your wings, wincing as your left wing shuttered from the stretch. “Like a whole female.” You half joked, a small smile coming to your lips. “I have something to tell you.” You whispered. You couldn’t wait longer to say it. Azriel responded with a hum of anticipation. “Azriel… I love you.” You whispered.

His smile grew, lighting up those gorgeous hazel eyes. You could’ve sworn you saw a golden hue flash through them. “I love you, sweetheart.” He whispered.

“And…” you said, sitting up ever so slightly so you could fully see him. “You are my mate.”

His smile was the biggest you’d ever seen. “And you’re mine.”

A/N: We are wrapping things up! I have a few more chapters left (as indicated on the masterlist). I'm thinking of either a second series or a few sequel drabbles...

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#acotar #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar spoilers #the shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #katie writes

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kaeyas-beloved · 3 days

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four sides and a bottom

Character: Kaveh

— a box full of your things, that’s it, that’s all

CWs: gn!reader (you/your), ANGST, hurt/no comfort, aftermath of a breakup

val’s no sympathy november masterlist

gonna apologize for dipping for so long but i'm also warning you that it could very much happen again <3 also i'm a little rusty with writing pls be nice to me :(

Kaveh wishes your relationship could’ve ended on good terms. He wouldn’t be able to kiss you or cuddle up to you with a glass of wine after a tough day, but at least you would still be his life. That and that alone would be good enough for him.

On rougher days, the words you spoke echo in his head, disrupting him as he goes about his day. When his mind isn’t occupied it’ll wander to the last day he was able to call you his, making even simple tasks like working or making a cup of coffee painful. A pang in his heart followed by an uncomfortable weight on his chest, throat blocked, barely able to breathe.

“We’re done Kaveh. No more, I can’t keep doing this!” The architect squeezes his eyes shut, willing away the repeat of the past. Without thinking, he takes his almost forgotten glass and downs a greedy gulp of the dark red liquid, the sweet yet bitter drink coating his throat and stomach, making his head spin and his heart beat just the way he likes it - stuttering and skipping as if to stop and bypass the thoughts he’d rather forget.

As much as the deadline loomed over him, Kaveh couldn’t, for the life of him, work on his latest project. Instead, his eyes kept trailing to the box pushed against his closet, the contents overflowing and peeking out for the world to see. By the fourth glance he groans and stands up, chair dragging along the wood floor and nearly toppling over from the force.

Some days he doesn’t know why he keeps this box of reminders around, other times he knows exactly why. People will cling to the last things they own when it affects them so greatly in life. You, by far, were one of the greatest effects on him.

There’s a clink and a thud as Kaveh sets the box of your things on the table, and it’s almost sad how he’s able to identify exactly what made each noise. He’s only memorized everything in it a dozen and a half times after all. A pocket watch, a picture frame, a scarf, a sketchbook, a ring. Meaningless things on their own or to the outside eye, but to you and Kaveh, they meant the world.

Clear as water he could remember when he gifted each of these to you, save the frame and picture. That was your own doing, something you had set on your desk because you liked looking at how happy you both were that day (or so you said - he thinks it's just because you liked looking at him specifically).

He’d given you the scarf to stay warm one night, the watch because you said it had a pretty design (you scolded him a little after finding out he almost spent all his mora on it for you as a gift. You were still touched nonetheless though). The sketchbook was given after you let slip that sometimes you liked to doodle. You always said you didn’t feel as talented as he was, but he’d always shoot back and say that as long as you appreciated the art of it all, the process, and you drew with a smile, then anything you drew was perfect (you were perfect).

The ring was a promise, one that he hadn’t intended to break. This gift you were too speechless to get on his case about financially because the words of love, dedication and loyalty that he added along meant the world to you. The promise to love you forever, to always take into consideration your feelings, and to one day make you his.

In some poetic, way maybe each item was an accumulation of things he was willing to give, when the reality was that you only needed him. Thinking on it now, it hurts more knowing that his absence was what caused your split in paths. Then again…

“Everything hurts when I’m not with you… I miss you.”

Tag list (both regular and event exclusive): @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @kaeyaloml // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @kunikuzushiii // @genshin-impact-writings // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs // @leena-shi // @ari-the-wr1ter // @xiaos-wife // @milkwithspiceyicecubes // @stygianoir // @francisnyx // @leemidnightmoon // @bisexuawolfsalt

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#val's nsn #kaveh x reader #genshin x reader #genshin kaveh #genshin angst #kaveh x gender neutral reader #genshin impact kaveh #kaveh genshin #genshin impact #genshin x you #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x reader #kaveh angst #kaveh x reader angst

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deathblacksmoke · 5 hours

Text

today’s filthy, disgusting thoughts are brought to you in part by a request i got from @somebodyels3 that’s been burning a hole in my brain. liberties were taken (and it’s a little longer than i planned). enjoy a little nicky x noah x f!reader phone sex thingy 🩷

part of the euclid polyverse / 18+ nsfw below the cut

nicky is back home in richmond for a little bit while you’re staying with noah in LA.

it’s a lot of lazy days in — lying on the sofa observing while noah is fucking around in the home studio, sprawled on the living room floor or on the couch having anime marathons, mid-afternoon naps all bundled up in bed with the AC blasting.

an early morning make out session in bed — slow grinding bodies, whispered praises, and roaming hands — devolves into something else when there’s an unbearable, painful pang in your chest.

“i wish nicky was here.” you say. you just can’t help it. it’s the only thing you can think about sometimes, how wrong it feels to be doing anything without him, how incomplete it all is. noah’s expression lets you know that he feels largely the same.

“i miss him too, sweetheart.” he responds, pity in his tone laced with what you know to be sadness. longing. the a lot goes unspoken, but you know it’s meant to be there. the so much is unsaid, but it doesn’t need to be. it’s clear in his tone, in the energy that lies heavy over everything when nick is gone. noah misses his boy just as much as you do. a gentle hand strokes your side, drawing you closer to him. “only a few more days until he’s back with us.”

you let yourself sink into him, barely soothed but happy to at least be here with one of your darlings. you love him so much and he is so good to you; he deserves to feel appreciated even if there’s a pit of misery in your gut as well as his.

it’s a comfort to the both of you when you start making your descent down his body, placing kisses to his exposed skin until you reach the waistband of his sweats. his belly tightens and relaxes beneath your palms and it dizzies you. his sigh when you pull down his waistband and sink your mouth onto him sends a rush of blood to your head — you almost miss the distant ringing and a familiar voice.

“hey, no.” comes a voice that can only be nick’s, and an excitement buzzes through you. you remain focused on your task, hoping to hide the sudden thrumming beneath your skin caused by the sound of your love’s voice. it’s something you’ve discussed before, for when the boys are on tour. you didn’t know it would be so soon, or like this, but you can’t find it in you to be displeased. you don’t want to.

“hi, nicky. we miss you, baby.” noah tells him. you work your mouth further down on him to distract yourself, wait your turn. noah gasps, it breaks off into a moan and he sounds so pretty — you find yourself basking in the sound of nick’s sweet laugh.

“i miss you both so much.” nicky responds, and you feel a little pitiful. you wish he was here. you miss him more. “what are you two doing?”

“our darling is a little occupied.” noah says as he runs his fingers through your hair, pushing it away from your face. you flit your eyes open to meet his, and there’s something mischievous in his eyes. you do your best work, gagging on him and feeling your eyes brim with tears. “do you want to talk to her?”

“please.” comes nicky’s reply without pause, and you feel as your cheeks heat. noah hands the phone down to you, but he shakes his head, a hand on the back of your head when you try to lift your head up. it becomes clear what he needs from you, as you work harder, sloppier, noisier for the both of them. “oh, sweet girl. our noah is putting you to work, huh?”

normally you’d nod, and he’d tell you to use his words, but you have a task and he’s not here. all you can do is whine, and nick’s groan is so unmistakable, and you really wish he was here with you. you wish he was here to help move your head on noah and hold your hair back how you know he likes to.

noah takes the phone back, clicks it off speaker and puts it up to his ear. it’s torment, but it only serves to make you work harder, make both of your boys happy and proud.

“yeah, nicky, her mouth is so good. you miss it, don’t you?” you wish you could hear the other end of the conversation — you wish you could hear nicky. the way he speaks to noah, so gently and so teasing, the way noah tenses and relaxes. you need to know what he’s saying, what causes noah to tighten his hands in your hair and buck his hips into your mouth. “i wish you were here. we wish you were here.”

almost none of the attention is on you other than noah’s hand in your hair, lost in flirty conversation with nick. envy courses through you and you find yourself needing noah to finish. the sooner he does, the sooner you can get the phone back and nick back in your ear. you pull almost all the way off, sliding your tongue through noah’s slit and basking in it when he yanks on your hair again and releases a painful, broken groan. there’s barely a tug on your hair as a warning when noah spills down your throat.

it’s with pleasure when you crawl back up his body, kissing him deeply before snatching the phone from his hand and putting it up to your own ear.

“come back soon, nicky.” you say. his breathing is heavy in your ear — it seems you interrupted something. you’re pleased to help him finish, too. “you miss my mouth too, don’t you, honey?”

#noah sebastian fic #nick ruffilo fic #bad omens fic #noah sebastian x nick ruffilo x reader #fic: euclid

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wintfleur · 2 days

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/wintfleur/752044949992882176/i-wanna-plan-stella-and-rutgers-future-send-in

I feel like Rutger is going to go to the nhl next year so Stella and Rutger have to do long distance her senior year.

Doing long distance was hard on them but Stella would go bust him at least every month. When hockey season is over I just imagine them going to look at apartments. They are so excited to live together and start this new chapter in their lives. Also Rutger is spoiling her with his now professional paychecks and is getting anything Stella wants in their apartment.

a/n ﹒omg pls I also think he’s going to sign next year 😭

au masterlist - you can find everything under #👩🏻‍🎨 ͡ ꒱ Stella Hughes!

I feel like it would be hard for them to get used to long distance , they are very attached to each other , physically and emotionally , so it would be hard for them to get used to not seeing each other every day. (I definitely plan on writing some angst) I can just imagine rut coming home from a bad game and he’s just so sad and wishes Stella could hold him but instead he lays alone in bed , he doesn’t call Stella because he knows it’s late for her and he wants her to get some good rest . . . he just looks at pictures of them :(

I feel like her brothers would get a little annoyed that she doesn’t come to visit them as much anymore because now she’s always visiting either any chance she can. Like they understand but they also really miss her. I also feel like they would be understanding but a little nervous about her going to move in with rutger !! Like it’s hard for them to fathom that their little sister is all grown up and looking for apartments with her boyfriend . . . Like it’s crazy to them.

Stella would honestly be so excited to go apartment hunting with Rutger !! She’s such a domestic person , she loves the whole family life , waking up and making breakfast together , all of that !! It would definitely take them a little to find the perfect apartment. Like it would need to have what they both want. 3 bedrooms, one for there room, a guest bedroom, an extra room for Stella’s art studio (she said she didn’t need one but Rutger is very clear they they need one) they also like a lot of windows , and a big kitchen !! But after some time they find the most perfect apartment , they also have a greatttt time decorating the apartment and picking all the furniture.

Ellen definitely flys out to help !! Helping make sure they get everything the need , she’s the best mom :(

But yes Rutger is definitely spoiling his girl , they go shopping with Ellen and Stella is just pointing at things and Ellen is like ‘sweetie you don’t need a pink kitchen aid , you already have a pistachio one’ and then when they both turn around Rutger is putting it in the cart !!

Awe and omg they have a housewarming party :(